Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his the back of his neck left
And you don't nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, have had gin in the cup
'cause I'm in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 1: Brotha Hung]
It all started when I the lid of the Olde E
And see E-A-R-double-O-E... ... ... (??)
Where my siccmade jacket at
that's the only one I could use
When I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out your
It was the pressure the twenty gage(the twenty gage)
Felt like it could split your chest open wit it
Well nigga you should when I'm talkin that shit
Bout the that's my kin-folks
Should've known the while you was givin out that info...
...mation, I'll be of that Mason
When I hit em all up, em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up
deal, dig em' a ditch, then take they grip
Put em in the back of the Cadillac em how my Mini-Mac gonna act
My is lethal
the whole town hella smokey
like that band that steppin over people
It's that, and you wouldn't know it 'cause I'ma cool ass mufucca
Done delt witt a gang of
as I for the city to heat up like a Hot Pepper
Gotta whole load Evian
and a trunck fulla FO take and I can't let go
you at yo show slippin
Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street I heat my heat
off the hook this siccmade shit, straight made nigga
Fuck it, me the straight lace liquor to the face nigga
Off the Thunder and Kool-Aid and O 8
Easy on the liver still me kill a nigga
you head like a pineapple
Die natural!
Five at your dome send em home in a
I Lift you out your sox
Pay attention to the
Its like Half pass a niggas ass lay em in the grass suitcase fulla cash and mash
16 in the crumble the urb roll a sliff bout to whatch you brain split in half
Bloody bath watter, infried nigga and bones locaded at home I think him name is Tyrone
But you know...

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for
Put the in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don't nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, have had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

2: Brotha Lynch Hung]
You can me black Sadam Huseain
Pump St through my vein ass nigga
You can see me on the of the street
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that the city
Get ready for some pretty if you sicc Frank Nitty
Sucked blood from my momas tittie - instead of
murda muzicc in my tape deck - instead of Silkk
End up one of them motherfuckers
So fuck them hoes, like Grim
havin killin niggas they gots to go
woke up at 3 am - got high til
Jumped in my what you ma call it headin throughwards heaven, my
50 sacc of some shit, that'll you get there
About 11:30 with your dirty,
I'm worthy strapped like James as ventured in faulty game
In a mainframe, that I ruffed n bucked away, then hit the
15 guts on a tripple beam scale
acual contact from the strap that I hale

Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the of his neck left
And you don't know nuthin but the gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the
Wit the windows up, have had gin in the cup
I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 3: Lynch Hung]
They got motherfucker twisted up
And from the sound of the barrle I got hella motherfuckers up
should I do about these fuckin fleas?
Give em all they want and put seeds in they weed
Figga a way out this I know you got me in file
But I got you on scanner so anotha way (anotha way)
me it was (?Coda steady?)
But I catch you slippin pimpin
and shake like (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your mind workin these
tripp get's deepa as you meat the Grim reapa
in the form of a man double M 24 5 got your leaking I'm peakin
That's why these wanna rip keep me
I'm rollin squeeky and you ma want call it
.45 in my pocket and I'm a young alcoholic
Like P-Folks I had to it happen
most wanted I gotta keep packin, 'cause of that
My cousin just go four years
And when his little brotha died he me no tears
your point is get deep as the ocean
a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on like lotion
It was like: once apon a time a long ago
I was 9 milis in a pussy hole
Get of the Ol 8 old Murda moe then i go to a spot
they don't know I'm the leath nigga given up my info

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his the back of his neck left
And you know nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)