Luyện nghe bài hát Yapp City

[Intro: Killah]
[church bell
Yeah, yeah, we want all that shit, we'll take all that
Sneak up on 'im right, me?
Soon as he turn around, just yapp nigga
I got everything,
They ain't gotta do nothing, but just search bitches
go...

[Ghostface
Nobody move, nobody get
This is a stick up, I want y'all to lift y'all
I mean shirts, take ya hoodies off, and watches
you put ya hands on the wall, empty ya pockets
Fix ya face, this a robbery, nigga, respect the
Stop shaking, you making me nervous, I know you shook
The fuck is sticking out from under ya foot?
Move, turn ya head around, nigga, you better not
Stacks, you hiding from Tone? I'll shake, rattle ya
You killed him! Nah, hit him the back of the fucking chrome
In the dark, yo, I do alone
That's the reason why I shake hands, in case I gave you a phone
That's a buck fifty, long hickey, I strike I do it quickly
Creep up on my victims swiftly, make it for you to stick me
Cuz if we shoot it out, cuz if I die tonight you coming me
Bitch-ass nigga, eat through ya chest like fucking whiskey

[Chorus: Solomon
BOY! Gut him a pig in the dark
Or auction off ya bitch body
BOY! Poison a guard dog, the alarm devices
ya head in vicegrips (yeah)
BOY! Or stick a hot through his heart
Get to sticking for the right prices
BOY! Yeah, is priceless.. GET 'EM!

God]
Aiyo, I up, packed the shotti
mags in lobbies, with red dots, to detach the body
If you a boss, why ya cash is
This a Staten Island burglar gang, ock, not no Ave could me
I'm on the road, not no massive
When it come to that dough, it over flow like bag tsunamis
I take shit, lumberjacks and
Niggaz passing out bombs Culpepper, so I pass behind 'em
My black glove, black mask,
Sent the to Trife Dies', and he gon' send 'em fast, they flying in
These couldn't clash our lion's den
That forty-four mag'll twist ya aves and the cav you in
We hoping out like Iron Men
hard to believe how niggaz leave with no bag supplying sense
Empty cuz my staff is
Canine dogs with duck fast when firing

[Trife Da
Aiyo, we arms like a octopus
strapped with the mac inside her pocket book
Blowing all of kush
Dark tints on the V so the D's spot the crooks
Just throw ya in the sky, don't try to stop the juks
Face down, lay on the ground, no moves
Yo, then, take off his Timbs and get the work out his
Rip off the pockets out his shoes, make he come out his used
I hear sirens, plus the cameras is watching, time to move
If you lolly-gagging, word to mama, body bag 'im
Leave his riddled with holes, looking like Gotti had 'im
Bragging, juked, in the wagon,
We slid a few down, this kid was frozen
With stones so we decided to 'im
I put the in his mouth, said "You don't want the action
These ain't E pills, nigga, is fuckin aspirin
Bean, 'im, Homo' get his girl for his cash and
Yo, E, go stop the whip, they 'bout to a slashing" (BOY!)