Luyện nghe bài hát Yeah!

[Andre
Man, I'ma run my mouth and get your corporate
Bring my benz out in the middle of a
I blow lye its "God Bless Buddha"
It's sort of like the runnin' with a known shooter
Baby I'ma it to the limit, run into the abyss
You know its god 7 on your top ten list
Its kamikaze, into the eyes of a pisces
and Las Vegas talkin' is where you might find me
Fillmo' from the nose to the toes
Get your cell phone you can picture every
all the clothes, picture all the hoes
Picture the perfection when your pile grows
You gotta crocodile style, I sport
They might bite, so fresh with the flavor
Got Khan? Fillmore's number one
Steak, potatoes, bread and some prawns!

[Chorus: Messy (Andre Nickatina)]
(YEEEAAH) San baby
Fillmo' niggas bring back the 80's, YEEEAAH
(Yeah is the motto
and run around town like its Grand Auto, Chicka-kahnn)
on my hip, good weed in my mouth
Gangsta niggas in the whip,
(Your not with clowns
When you try to kick hop, your body shut down)

[Messy
Yeah, nigga mothafuckin' fool
Trees for breakfast, eat by noon
24 Davins, only the lip
The rest of the women, same as the whip
Jump out and crack a nigga shit wide
Jump back in the nickle with the barrel smokin
Fillmore nigga, yeah break bread
I don't want no pussy, I don't no head
But you can get a of that purple stuff
Some gin and a bag of that Duff
pimp, trapped in a gangsta's body
I'm on and gonna fuck around and hurt somebody
On tuesday and thursday the ghost up
Then runs, they'll fuck you up
I'ma ass nigga, man I ain't gon' lie
I just wanna sell dope, smoke and get high, you BITCH

[Chorus: Marv (Andre Nickatina)]
(YEEEAAH) San baby
Fillmo' niggas try'na back the 80's, YEEEAAH
(Yeah is the motto
and run town like its Grand Theft Auto, Chicka-kahnn)
on my hip, good weed in my mouth
Gangsta in the whip, YEEEAAH
(Your not with clowns
When you try to hop, watch your body shut down)

[Andre
You might mistake me for E. Fresh, the way I sport ballies
With my Slick Rick and my Slick Rick walk
I wear rings the planet called Saturn
The money's movin' baby then your is the pattern
You know I hide out like witness protection
Some start to stare like a model car collection
You know it's like: twenty G's in a briefcase
My hood came up off the "freebase"
Man the soul of a grammy runs through my body
My bottom ho cries, I never say I love her
a cold word, thats why I p-p-p-party
My lawyer is a sneaky motherfucker, naughty
With hot lies, I hit for hot fries
A real rap cat, talkin' 'til the sun
your astrology, and your biography
I talk a bit to get you to follow me
I'm the quality, you like the quanity
Fillmore born and no apology

[Messy
San Francisco
Fillmo' niggas try'na bring back the 80's,
Wally on my hip, weed in my mouth
Gangsta niggas in the whip,