Luyện nghe bài hát 13 Years

19 nigga 7, bitch happenin?

Thirteen years!
I what to do to knock your stupid ass
so bad you no challenge.
Thirteen years!
ain't no fluke, this pure deep talent.
Thirteen years!
I know what to do to knock stupid ass
so bad you no challenge.
muthafuckin years!
1]
Bow, when I the microphone and hold it
Keepin me until I hoarse and swollen
Thirteen and rollin
I rate than coldest
Gettin part of this, niggas don't no more of this
Never leave you alone in your life, I'm selectin and sellin rhymes
Slap a nigga that style sound like mine
Mad enough you "It AIN'T!"
(This line whispered, hear)
You be pissin me off the time, take you down one at a time
I'ma be for fuckin over your whole album
Who my rhyme?
Keep decling, I'ma climbing
Keep duckin, keep buckin
Keepin seekin rhymes comin to get you bitches off me
cow sled, (..?..)
Hard to break, if it that way
It me thirteen muthafuckin years just to make a tape
But that don't mean that my rhymes one of the
All I know I been tryin to make it for the longest
Fuck the side of all this, long as you it
When I done it, gettin blunted bout to run bitch
Takin them riders down with me, clown me
Leave thirteen in muthafuckin chest and you can count em

2]
Nigga go pass the vibe, dividin mad this
catastrophy, leave MCs in closed caskets
Hit ya like metal jackets, cut like hatchets
Tight as ratchets, and burn matches
Thick than amino acids, flip like gymnastics, as a pissy mattress
Droppin the temperature in December
em, tippin em, been writin raps far back as I can remember
Fulla them rocks, everybody key
It was Djs and sucka MCs
Handle your buisness in industry of competition
Or be at F.W. Bulls dishes
I was born to write million dollar rhymes
Battle in the hallways of back in 85
86, 87, 88, hooked up with Big Boy records and made my first demo
We dropped real shit in the basement
I had big ol' nigga tracks, raps like
To come from New Orleans it hard to surface
That's when I got and joined the service
Pissed of and I (?) long
I went to war and served time before I made it back home
No more in my jeans and gettin my cream
shit unlucky about my number thirteen

3]
I hit the like BOSH! Owwwwww!
Never gon bounce could rap and time before I bow
How in the fuck you like me now
Told your ass she had said I'd be on top of the
Cause my rap is my hustle
I shot niggas up like
the flex like muscle
Use a, pretty delievery cause it's important
I form a style sharp enough to cut straight through the
I came my welts, gave up my belt
I got off from Big Boy records to put my on the shelf, now
Do I do it? right I did it
seen the little chir'en in the street singin I'm Not That Nigga
Size nothin nigga, I'm short
nigga, raah!
They gave me five hundred dollars, shit I quit of my jobs
Fuck em, got some other shit to do nine to five
My birthday came, and my died
But next year, Mystikal signed a half a dollar deal with Jive
This thats tragic can't be no more
of my rings I work at A&P no more
I drive my landcruiser off the floor
Got the to time to feel pain, sittin on Volvos
Comin with scheme, up in my
Who'd a thought I'd be a No Limit soldier
by the end of thirteen
manic muthfuckin years!