Luyện nghe bài hát THRT (The End)

Yo once a pimp gets
That's right, that's the the that's, threats them
And I'm about mine, I'm so sin-surr
And I, nigga I'll ya, I'll chop ya up
Put ya inside the mattress like drug money

Yeah, I done told you niggaz 9 or 10 times stop fuckin' me
I done you niggaz 9 albums, stop fuckin' with me
I told you niggaz the 9 on me, stop fuckin' with me
You must got 9 lives, 9th wonder

Put that knife in ya, a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightenin' ya? Shall I
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a
I let it hum to ya, the one sing along

Now it's a duet, and you wet, you check out
The technique the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips
To blow this like a you dumb shit
This is a un-usual musical I

You lookin' at the black Warren Buffett so all critics can sic
I care if you C. Delores Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only me up
For years, they had me peein' out of a cup

Now they 'bout to me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I still feel
I'm young and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but
You never had me like Aguiler-y

But catch me down the Westside, drivin' Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the of my car
out the sunroof, death to y'all
You can't kill me, I live through these bars

I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on head
The whole want ya, you startin' to look like bread
I send them boys at ya, I talkin' bout Feds
them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said

I make 'em wait for you 'til in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the of your garment
Nigga stop with me
R I P

That's there nigga, nigga I'm wild
Nigga I keep trash with me
Never know when you gotta dump a out
This sin-surr, this sin-surr shit right here

Grown man I put hands on you, I dig a in the desert
They build The Sands on you, lay out plans on you
We Rat Pack niggaz, let Sam tap on you
Then, I Sinatra shot ya God you

I put the boy in the box like Blaine
Let the watch, it ain't a thang
Y'all wish I was frontin', I Bush the button
Front of all you in your car up your hood nigga run it

Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil it
Your boy got the goods, y'all want nuttin' of it
Like, oil, I Castor Troy you
Change face or the bullets change all that for you

Y'all niggaz is targets, y'all for bullets
Please make me park it in your upper level
Valet a strays from the 38 special, nigga
God you

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the
Put smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga fuckin' with me
R I P

I'm threatenin' ya, yeah I'm threatenin' ya
Who you thank you dealin'
call me Chris, nigga I been makin' threats
Since I been in kindergarten
Huh, ask me, see if you ain't heard

When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you
Like numchuks by the Jet L-I
I'm the one, meanin' no one must try
No two, no three, no four, know

Because one's four-five blow yo' high
You ain't gotta go to church to get to yo' God
It's a match made in heaven I 'splay the 7
Put you on the news, UPN at 11

Where you been, you ain't heard, got the word I'm
That I'm so
I'm Joe Pesci with a grin
I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again, right

I make 'em wait for you 'til in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of garment
Nigga stop fuckin' me
R I P

Whattup? Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers
I'll throw a Molotov cocktail
Through your momma's house
Nigga what the, where everybody

Undercover nigga take your teeth out your nigga
Chew your food up and put the shit
In your mouth and help you swallow
Nigga I take a mop off nigga
And sweep nigga, hold on, be nigga what?