Luyện nghe bài hát Got Ur Self A...

Woke up mornin', (yeah)
You got a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got a gun

Yo, I'm livin' in this time enemy lines so

I got mine, I hope you (got a gun)
You from the hood I hope you (got a gun)
You want beef? I hope ya (got a gun)
And when I see you take what I want
So, you tried to front, ya (got yo'self a gun)
You real, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)

My, first album had no famous guest
The outcome: I'm crowned the best
Many on this professional level
Why would you who's better? The world is still mine
Tattoos real with "God's Son" the belly
The of rap, you saw me in "Belly" with thoughts like that
To take it back to Africa, I did it Biggie
Me and were soldiers of the same struggle
You lames huddle, your team's shook
Y'all the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football field
Throwin' from a barrel, shoulder pads apparel
But the Q.B. don't stand for no
Every word is like a sawed-off blast, y'all all soft
And I'm the black that came to haul y'all ass in
It's for the by the corner store
Many try, many die, at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh

Yo, I'm the N the A to the
And If I wasn't, I must've Escobar
You know the kid got his tooth fixed
Hair parted with a preciseness, Bravehearted for life
It's the of the Golden Child, son of a blue's player
So who are you Y'all awaited the true savior
Puffin' tropical, cups of that Vodka too
Papi chu', up, wake up in a hospital
up? Never, 'member I do this through righteous steps
You Judists I was gone, so in light of my death
Y'all been all happy-go-lucky, bunch of
me "God's Son", with my pants low
I don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey
This is dough, in my Nascar with this Nas flow
Flip the back, now it's all reppin'
Hit the sto', never let me go, get my whole collection, yo

It's, the, of the Prince, the boss
This is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit's
Sip Cris', get chips, gliss, I floss
Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter
With the top cut off, rich go and cop The Source
They don't know about the I'm on
And everybody want to where the kid go? Where he rest at?
Where he at and dress at?
he got dough, where does he live? Is he still in the bridge?
Does he really how ill that he is?
Got all of y'all watchin' my moves, my and my jewels
Hop in my coupe, interviews like that
It's not only my jewels, ice anything, plenty
at my tennis shoes, I iced that
Who am I? The back-twister,
Automatic leg-spreader, quicker
it gangsta wit' ya, uh

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