Luyện nghe bài hát Dead The Funeral

'For leaf big blowgun, fag bitch, doj' an'
Peach chrome, Rover, Zeke home so bend over
He looked at me and said "Killa I'll be your pitcher, the bing was rough"
I said I did the bid wit' ya
Capiche, not Mona Lisa the big picture
Six scriptures, six blickers, grip triggers, niggaz
The Big Dipper, liquor, big liver
Now that you home the shit differ, I dig nigga
as a nigga whisper, believe we jiggin' Jigga
He Elton Brand in a chair, he'll get the Clippers
I don't care who you are, the point, don't be pa
We celebrities guns, shooting stars
remove ya bras, a few of ours in through-in cars
Spray 21, Blackjack, I knew ya
Kid roll, Peter like Kennedy
Friends with me at the graveyard, visits from old
Some bitched, some snitched, some owed us
on the tombstone, write on it, "Told you so"
Check my portfolio, I was poor rose to dough
KNow what I'm in a drought I score, overflow
I'm the waterboy, wet work for call
The price is nice, TLC, some
Fiends it all, this fact I report to y'all
Go inside, extort them all, from short to tall you ball
And where the ballas live and all my all to win
This the time around, that shit you call again
Damn yo' lady fine, you on yo' baby grind
Me I'm 86, temp, P-89s
Everyday we shine, fine, pay me mind
My watches are retarded, you can call 'em times
Mines are more than
We gon' til the Range, Benz, and Porsches clutter
Garage, assorted
Crayola box, for that, payola doc
I'll lay you over a with the strangest odor ock
Is it over not, huh, we to you
We shoot the wake up, up and dead the funeral

Ay yo the fuck up
I said we shoot the wake up and dead the fu--
You dead already we gon' the fu--
Matter fact son, bring that back up, fuck it

And you heard Rell, I do than foul
murdered Roberta, lawyer murdered murder trials
We deserve to style, walk on tile
On the with millions, Durst to Al
I get cake in layers, not the Daily
But when I flip, I the papers, hate the mayor
I'm a gangsta, I ma, go date a player
Man these dudes are fish market, fillet ya
Went to war Kromo, then Pataki
Guilliani, then I went to North Cackalacky
What you gon' tell a mobster, cake was hella
No Petey Pablo I saw them helicopters
the letter niggaz, trinckets from the ghetto bird
Her word said I gave the whole ghetto
Man your case go it, need a new assignment
That ain't out, first of all that's call for silent
Contest to
You got no gunwounds, jail time, felonies, shit on your resume
I get you yay, not tomorrow, yesterday
If they ask, say, snitch and we never play, ay