Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That motherfucker kept for goods
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, have 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 when I twisted the lid of the Olde 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 split your chest whide open wit it
nigga you should when I'm round talkin that shit
Bout the nigga my kin-folks
Should've known the deal while you was out that info...
...mation, I'll be of Parry Mason
When I hit em all up, em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up
Real deal, dig em' a ditch, take they grip
Put em in the back of the Cadillac em how my Mini-Mac gonna act
My tactics is
Leave the whole town smokey
like that band that steppin dead people
It's like that, and you wouldn't it 'cause I'ma cool ass mufucca
Done witt a gang of succas
as I wait for the city to heat up like a Hot
Gotta whole fulla Evian
and a trunck fulla FO take and I can't let go
Catch you at yo show
Hoes trippin, rippin in the street after I heat my heat
off the hook with this shit, straight made nigga
Fuck it, pass me the lace liquor to the face nigga
Off the Thunder Burger and and O 8
Easy on the liver still make me kill a
Split you head like a
Die natural!
Five at your dome send em in a pinebox
I mean 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 crumble the urb roll a bout 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]
motherfucker kept sniffin 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 morning I'm 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*)

[Verse 2: Lynch Hung]
You can call me black Sadam
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 from my momas tittie - instead of milk
Played murda muzicc in my tape deck - of Silkk
End up one of them motherfuckers
So fuck them hoes, they like
killin niggas like 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 of some shit, that'll make you get there
About 11:30 with T-shirt dirty,
I'm worthy 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 scale nigga
acual from the strap that I hale nigga

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you don't know nuthin but the killa away
4.30 in the morning 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*)

[Verse 3: Brotha Hung]
got this motherfucker twisted up
And the sound of the barrle I got hella motherfuckers runnin up
What should I do about these 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 like pimpin
and bankin like (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your workin these swine
tripp get's deepa as you meat the Grim reapa
in the form of a man M 24 5 got your brains leaking I'm peakin
That's why these nigga wanna rip me
I'm rollin squeeky and what you ma want it
witta .45 in my pocket and I'm a alcoholic
Like P-Folks I had to it happen
most wanted I gotta keep packin, 'cause of that
My favorite cousin just go four
And when his brotha died he showed me no tears
your is shit get deep as the ocean
Take a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on like
It was like: once apon a time a time ago
I was sticken 9 in a pussy hole
Get of the Ol 8 old Murda moe i gotta go to a spot
when they know I'm the leath nigga given up my info

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That motherfucker sniffin 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, have had gin in the cup
I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)