Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

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

1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It all started 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 one I could use
When I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out your
It was the from the twenty gage(the twenty gage)
like it could split your chest whide open 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
I hit em all up, creep em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up
Real deal, dig em' a ditch, then take grip
Put em in the back of the Cadillac show em how my Mini-Mac act
My is lethal
Leave the town hella smokey
like that band that steppin dead people
It's that, and you wouldn't know 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
you at yo show slippin
Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street I heat my heat
off the hook with this siccmade shit, made nigga
Fuck it, pass me the straight liquor to the face nigga
Off the Burger and Kool-Aid and O 8
Easy on the liver make me kill a nigga
Split you head like a
Die natural!
Five at your dome em home in a pinebox
I mean you out your sox
Pay to the Clock
Its like Half pass a niggas ass lay em in the take suitcase fulla cash and mash
16 in the crumble the urb roll a sliff bout to whatch you brain split in half
Bloody bath watter, infried nigga nuts and bones locaded at 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 gone in the
Wit the windows up, must had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch
You can call me Sadam Huseain
Pump St Idees through my ass nigga
You can see me on the southside of the
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga flod the city
Get ready for some pretty if you sicc Frank Nitty
Sucked blood from my momas tittie - of milk
Played murda in my tape deck - instead of Silkk
End up killen one of them
So fuck them hoes, they Grim
killin niggas like they gots to go
woke up at 3 am - got 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 with T-shirt dirty,
I'm worthy strapped like James as in this faulty game
In a mainframe, that I ruffed n bucked away, then hit the
15 on a tripple beam scale 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 know nuthin but the killa gotta
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 fast-lane gotta be em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 3: Lynch Hung]
got this motherfucker twisted up
And from the sound of the barrle I got motherfuckers runnin up
What should I do these fuckin fleas?
Give em all want and put they seeds in they weed
Figga a way out this 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 you slippin like pimpin
and shake bankin (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your workin these swine
tripp time get's deepa as you meat the reapa
in the form of a man double M 24 5 got your brains I'm peakin
That's why these nigga rip keep me
I'm rollin squeeky and you ma want call it
witta .45 in my pocket and I'm a young
P-Folks I had to make it happen
Sacramentos wanted I gotta keep packin, 'cause of that
My favorite cousin go four years
And when his brotha died he showed me no tears
your point is get deep as the ocean
Take a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on lotion
It was like: once apon a time a time ago
I was 9 milis in a pussy hole
Get of the Ol 8 old Murda moe then i go to a spot
when they don't know I'm the nigga given up my info

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
That kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the of his neck left
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
'cause I'm in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)