Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

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

1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It all started when I twisted the lid of the 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 you out your shoes
It was the pressure from the twenty gage(the gage)
Felt like it could split your whide open wit it
nigga you should when I'm round talkin that shit
Bout the nigga that's my
Should've the deal while you was givin out that info...
...mation, I'll be of that Parry
When I hit em all up, em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up
Real deal, dig em' a ditch, then they grip
Put em in the of the Cadillac show em how my Mini-Mac gonna act
My tactics is
the whole town hella smokey
like that that steppin over dead people
It's like that, and you wouldn't know it I'ma cool ass mufucca
delt witt a gang of succas
as I wait for the city to up like a Hot Pepper
Gotta load fulla Evian
and a trunck fulla FO take and I can't let go
Catch you at yo slippin
Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street after I heat my
off the hook with siccmade shit, straight made nigga
it, pass me the straight lace liquor to the face nigga
Off the Thunder and Kool-Aid and O 8
on the liver still make me kill a nigga
Split you head a pineapple
Die natural!
Five at your send em home in a pinebox
I mean Lift you out sox
Pay to the Clock
Its like Half pass a ass lay em in the grass take suitcase fulla cash and mash
16 in the clip crumble the urb roll a sliff to whatch you brain split in half
Bloody bath watter, infried nigga nuts and bones locaded at home I think him name is
But you know...

Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you don't know but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the
Wit the windows up, must had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the gotta 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 southside of the
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that flod the
Get ready for some pretty if you like Frank Nitty
Sucked blood my momas tittie - instead of milk
Played murda muzicc in my deck - instead of Silkk
End up one of them motherfuckers
So fuck them hoes, like Grim
havin killin niggas they gots to go
up at 3 am - got high til seven
Jumped in my what you ma call it throughwards heaven, whit my
50 of some shit, that'll make you get there
About 11:30 with T-shirt dirty,
I'm worthy strapped like James as ventured in this faulty
In a mainframe, that I ruffed n away, then hit the plane
15 guts on a beam scale nigga
acual contact from the strap that I nigga

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

[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch
got this 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 nigga I know you got me in
But I got you on so plan anotha way (anotha way)
me it was (?Coda steady?)
But I catch you slippin like
and shake like (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit mind workin these swine
tripp time deepa as you meat the Grim reapa
in the of a man double M 24 5 got your brains leaking I'm peakin
That's why these nigga rip keep me
I'm rollin squeeky and what you ma call it
witta .45 in my pocket and I'm a alcoholic
Like I had to make it happen
Sacramentos most wanted I gotta keep packin, of that
My favorite just go four years
And when his brotha died he showed 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 sticken 9 milis in a pussy
Get of the Ol 8 old Murda moe then i go to a spot
when they know I'm the leath nigga given up my info

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