Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

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

[Verse 1: 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
'cause the only one I could use
I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out your shoes
It was the pressure from the gage(the twenty gage)
Felt like it could split your chest open wit it
Well nigga you should when I'm round talkin that
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, creep em all up, em all up, fill em all up
Real deal, dig em' a ditch, take they grip
Put em in the back of the Cadillac show em how my gonna act
My is lethal
Leave the whole hella smokey
that band that steppin over dead people
It's like that, and you wouldn't know it 'cause I'ma ass mufucca
Done delt a gang of succas
as I wait for the city to heat up like a Hot
whole load fulla Evian
and a trunck fulla FO no's and I can't let go
Catch you at yo show
Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street I heat my heat
off the hook with this siccmade shit, straight made
Fuck it, pass me the straight liquor to the face nigga
Off the Thunder Burger and and O 8
on the liver still make me kill a nigga
Split you head a pineapple
Die natural!
Five at your dome em home in a pinebox
I Lift you out your sox
Pay to the Clock
Its Half pass a niggas ass lay em in the grass take suitcase fulla cash and mash
16 in the clip 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: Brotha 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
Before 4.30 in the 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 be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

2: Brotha Lynch Hung]
You can call me black Huseain
Pump St Idees my vein ass nigga
You can see me on the southside of the
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that the city
Get ready for some pretty if you sicc Frank Nitty
Sucked blood from my tittie - instead of milk
Played murda muzicc in my tape - instead of Silkk
End up one of them motherfuckers
So fuck hoes, they like Grim
havin killin like they gots to go
up at 3 am - got high til seven
Jumped in my what you ma it headin throughwards heaven, whit my
50 sacc of some shit, make you get there
About 11:30 your T-shirt dirty,
I'm strapped like James as ventured in this faulty game
In a mainframe, I ruffed n bucked away, then hit the plane
15 guts on a tripple beam nigga
contact from the strap that I hale nigga

[Chorus: Brotha Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck
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, must had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

3: Brotha 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 they seeds in they
Figga a way out this I know you got me in file
But I got you on scanner so plan way (anotha way)
me it was (?Coda steady?)
But I catch you slippin pimpin
and shake bankin (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your mind these swine
time 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 nigga rip keep me
I'm rollin squeeky and what you ma call it
.45 in my pocket and I'm a young alcoholic
Like P-Folks I had to make it
Sacramentos most wanted I gotta packin, 'cause of that
My favorite cousin go four years
And when his little brotha died he me no tears
your point is shit get deep as the
Take a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on like
It was once apon a time a long time ago
I was sticken 9 in a pussy hole
Get of the Ol 8 old moe then i gotta go to a spot
when they know I'm the leath nigga given up my info

Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you don't know nuthin but the gotta away
Before 4.30 in the 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 be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)