Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That kept sniffin for goods
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 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*)

1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It all started when I the lid of the Olde E
And see E-A-R-double-O-E... ... ... (??)
Where my motherfuckering jacket at
'cause that's the only one I use
When I saw you at the war yeah I lifted you out your shoes
It was the pressure the twenty gage(the twenty gage)
Felt like it could split your whide open wit it
Well nigga you should when I'm talkin that shit
Bout the nigga my kin-folks
Should've known the deal you was givin out that info...
...mation, be of that Parry Mason
When I hit em all up, creep em all up, kill em all up, em all up
Real deal, dig em' a ditch, then take they
Put em in the back of the show em how my Mini-Mac gonna act
My tactics is
Leave the whole town smokey
that band that steppin over dead people
It's like that, and you wouldn't know it 'cause I'ma cool ass
Done witt a gang of succas
as I for the city to heat up like a Hot Pepper
Gotta whole load fulla
and a trunck fulla FO take and I can't let go
you at yo show slippin
Hoes trippin, rows in the street after 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 make me kill a nigga
Split you head a pineapple
Die natural!
Five at your dome send em in a pinebox
I Lift you out your sox
Pay attention to the
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 bout to whatch you brain split in half
Bloody watter, infried nigga nuts and bones locaded at home I think him name is Tyrone
But you know...

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
That kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck
And you don't know nuthin but the killa gotta
Before 4.30 in the morning I'm 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*)

[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch
You can me black Sadam Huseain
Pump St Idees through my ass nigga
You can see me on the of the street
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) that flod the city
Get ready for pretty if you sicc like Frank Nitty
Sucked blood from my momas - instead of milk
Played murda muzicc in my tape deck - of Silkk
End up one of them motherfuckers
So them 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 of some shit, that'll make you get there
About 11:30 with T-shirt dirty,
I'm worthy strapped James as ventured in this faulty game
In a mainframe, that I ruffed n away, then hit the plane
15 on a tripple beam scale nigga
acual contact from the strap that I nigga

Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for
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 morning I'm 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*)

[Verse 3: Lynch Hung]
They got this motherfucker up
And from the sound of the barrle I got hella runnin up
What should I do about fuckin fleas?
em all they want and put they seeds in they weed
Figga a way out this nigga I 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 like
and bankin like (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your workin these swine
time get's deepa as you meat the Grim reapa
in the form of a man double M 24 5 got your brains leaking I'm
That's why these nigga wanna rip 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 it happen
most wanted I gotta keep packin, 'cause of that
My favorite just go four years
And when his little brotha died he showed me no
your point is get deep as the ocean
Take a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on lotion
It was like: apon a time a long time ago
I was sticken 9 milis in a pussy
Get of the Ol 8 old moe then i gotta go to a spot
when they don't I'm the leath nigga given up my info

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That motherfucker kept for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck
And you don't know 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*)