Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his the back of his neck 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
I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch
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 that's the only one I use
When I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out shoes
It was the pressure from the gage(the twenty gage)
Felt like it could split your chest whide wit it
Well nigga you should when I'm round talkin shit
Bout the that's my kin-folks
Should've known the deal you was givin out that info...
...mation, I'll be of that Parry
When I hit em all up, creep em all up, 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
Leave the whole town smokey
like that that steppin over dead people
It's like that, and you know it 'cause I'ma cool ass mufucca
delt witt a gang of succas
as I for the city to heat up like a Hot Pepper
whole load fulla Evian
and a trunck fulla FO take no's and I let go
Catch you at yo show
Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the after I heat my heat
off the hook with siccmade shit, straight made nigga
it, pass me the straight lace liquor to the face nigga
Off the Thunder Burger and and O 8
Easy on the liver make me kill a nigga
Split you like a pineapple
Die natural!
at your dome send em home in a pinebox
I mean you out your sox
Pay to the Clock
Its like pass a niggas 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 at home I think him name is Tyrone
But you know...

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

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

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That motherfucker sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you know nuthin but the killa gotta away
4.30 in the morning 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 3: Brotha Hung]
They got motherfucker twisted up
And the sound of the barrle I got hella motherfuckers runnin up
What should I do these fuckin fleas?
Give em all they want and put they in they weed
Figga a way out nigga I know you got me in file
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 get's deepa as you meat the reapa
in the of a man double M 24 5 got your brains leaking I'm peakin
why these nigga wanna rip keep me
I'm rollin and what you ma want call it
witta .45 in my pocket and I'm a young
Like P-Folks I had to make it
Sacramentos most wanted I gotta keep packin, 'cause of
My cousin just go four years
And when his little brotha died he me no tears
your is shit get deep as the ocean
a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on like lotion
It was like: once a time a long time 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 don't know I'm the leath given up my info

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept for goods
Put the in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don't know nuthin but the killa away
Before 4.30 in the I'm gone in the 6-Tre
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*)