Luyện nghe bài hát Banks Victory

[50
Yo, yo we can't stay forever
So if shit hit the fan then we as well die together
I'm high as ever, more and more cheddar
G-Unit move wit them pounds and berreta's
Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' it
Regardless if handed to me or I gotta grab it
Don't a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me
I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you
You know that I'm, 8 levels above you
I'll club you nigga, I never of you nigga, its ugly nigga
I'm the wrong one to
You on niggas is only gon' leave you smoked
So the only thing now is toast for these cowrads
I got no friends, most of these cowards
They pop shit 'till we approaching these cowards
While we lay dollars, they lay around flowers

[Lloyd
I got a intergangstress who and steams wit reefer
And who when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle's is long to stash the streetsweeper
This shit can get uglier than the Master P
We slidin the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus
Soon as break ho's home from college wanna fuck us
I ain't here to knowledge on you suckas
I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, followin to cuff us
Top dollars to this, whole lotta zeros
When it comes to paper I a soul outta aero
break before I lay floor berry
Besides, rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary
You can't Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the channel looks like I'm the game boy
I the rocks botherin ya vision
But and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion
Why wit a pigeon?
I'm blowin a 10 'cause Bush handin flyers for a party in a
I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red
I'm the last to scare niggas since Craig Mack
Now every morning's a start
And aint problem gettin dressed 'cause my closet got more aisles than pathmark
Run, move startin to
and wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
I'm the pimp pardon my age
I don't got hair but if I did she be partin my braids
We just find out club they at
take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em a subway mat
yer is a grey acura
these record labels got artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'
i go to college on a
I'm goin in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
I ya ammo clean, tec's polished in the drawer
Camera's by the hamper that mine the floor
by now, you heard of me
outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me
Burglary, were wit cha nike's burgandy, White T, burgandy
you match now, down
niggas love to hate you, but love you when you
catch me on the wit weed smoke and fishing gear
heavy when I toke, C notes from years
in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs
We rich, but we be glad to snatch ya
I send to your crib like I'm a cab dispatcha
you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a to drive
you ain't gettin nuttin but ya fries supersized
it's a shame y'all still local
I'm in a dollar studio layin my vocals

[50
Still in the projects nigga, you ain't nowhere
you gon' fuckin be for the rest of yo muthafuckin life
and yo said, I'm supposed to tell you somethin.....
to you, somethin positive
aight well I ain't gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't nowhere
get a beer, get on the fuckin curb
dirtbag