Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever I woke up this morning, I've been on
Twist the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, like Steve
I'm from the streets of California we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' that women, and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a
and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment building
Packin' and totin' and toast the lean oh what a
He's a fraudulent, I'm
He a simp, he a sap, he
I'm a boss, I'm a factor, I'm a hundred
I'm a hustler Larry Flynt
money's my habit, I stay in the traffic
Papered up like a tablet, my is massive
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a
I like a hooper man, papered up like a printer
I wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
Mental health, argue my conscience cursin' out myself
My got a psychologist, neurologist too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

Act like you
Dippin' and bobbin' and
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

Act you know
Dippin' and bobbin' and
In and out of traffic, from the morning to the
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

Drinking and on some good bud
Smokin' on a you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it my plugs
You my weed on my rug
That's twenty pushups, a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
Aliens around me, a no-no
They'll try to sneak me and my brains into adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best E-40 with his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, need to calm my nerves
You libel to find me at my kid's meeting smellin' like herb
I plastered, but I'm all about my paper
Liquor aroma, me in the elevator
More whips Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, like a car lot
My bite is stronger than my
you thought, heart
Bitch you full of shit a dog park
ass poodle, square as a cubicle
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a one's business?
While these sideline be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips
their lizznips like some bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running their mouth that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a bitch smack-smacked
in the naps, clapped
Head put on flap, can't even bring 'em back (bitch)

Act you know
Dippin' and and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the to the evening
Trying to get my right, my nigga
Stack it to the

Act you know
Dippin' and and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the to the evening
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

...to the