Luyện nghe bài hát Yesh Yesh Y'all

"This is for the niggas"

Yo, hard beats like this my mentality raw
I G off C 4 to blow off them Lex door
My tex-ture be the kind explore
MC's, I blow 'em out, metaphor after
I'm more wetter your boy bigger
So how you figure you can fuck this rap unemployed nigga
I should own a fly bitch and a Benz
But I got criminals and broke friends
love to get ends, keep the seventeens spinnin'
Pull out my jaw linin', commence to splittin'
Brains and body that motion couldn't picture
Cause when I'm shittin' hit more decks than a skipper
Mr. and Mrs. Howe, and Ginger
Gilligan, you need the Professor to take the
Mortis out, I got orders to em softly
I wouldn't leave a if I died and police chalked me
Who's the Boss G? You better the walkie talkie
For these Fatal Attract MC's stalk me
Got a big in your bitch clit
When I flip this I got work than a Olympic gymnast
Bust it, I cut the mustard, on any
Milkier Similac when I'm next up to bat
"Redman is on the mic and I'ma"
"Dope motherfucker, yeah, you ask somebody"

"Yes, yes, y'all, and you stop"

Fuck the I walk whatever I claim to do
Knock a mule on her ass and turn the pussy black and
You couldn't run up if your Fighter was
I'm a lyricist, I sleep in my work boots
It's a Thin Line Between and Hate
It's a line between the trigger and the finger of a thirty-eight
Dust by far, my rap
Be the art of murderin' makin' it hard for you to
We can chill and the ganja, but don't be mad when the
Funk Doctor smoke it with your baby mama
Get off my dick and tell your bitch to here
Male groupies gettin' shaky I come from the rear
Hah, that get on your neighbour that play the
Music loud as fuck in the mornin' off a paper
mad Zul in the L-S-C
In the area, scannin' the perimeter
All my boos with the toed shoes
If you ain't that pussy eaten right, let me show you
Then let you taste these, this Fox said
"Ain't No Nigga like the" -- Funk Spock G

"Yes, yes, y'all, and you stop"

As I into the crowd
I wanna see who the fuck loud
Who the fuck off at their mouth?
I let my nigga 50 Cent that ass out
Word bond, talkin' bout pourin out Cristal
And Dom P better stick to Chandon
out wildin', smackin' out weaves
Breakin' niggas ass chains and medallions
You're just a part time sucker in the
is real motherfucker start namin' names
And if you name my I whoop ass like Steven Seagal
Give you Siege 2 without the fuckin' train
Let your brains hang the 808 bang
And if I wrecked cipher then my Squad is to blame

"Yes, yes, y'all, and you stop"

be right back with some more funk shit
For all you asses after we pay these bills