Luyện nghe bài hát Body Bags

Fuck it, I mean we kill what we eat, right?
It's not a problem, it's not a problem. Southside

Okay, the dope addin' up, the coke up
The addin' up, my pockets are fattened up
I got in my bedroom, nerds on computers
Diamonds 'round my neck, straps for my
I it, look ma', I made it
I grind so hard to get here I be faded
I got lawyers on the line, five kinds
Five crimes, same .45
Got a to turn to premise, see, a nigga ain't lyin'
'Cause they ain't say I did it and I ain't gon' say I did it
And I might go and forth to court, but I bet I get acquitted
Can you dig it? Nigga, can you dig it?
Shit changed, a nigga ain't
I had a safe as a shoe box, it felt like a vault
Now I got real money, "fuck how you feel" money
"nigga, you look at me wrong, get killed" money

You be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, out to get at you
You gon' be part of my bag ritual
.45 lettin' off shit at you
You gon' be put in a bag, bag
You won't get a chance to back

I peep my in the mirror, I think I got a crush on me
I don't want no bitches touchin' me
Tailor-made threads, satin on my bed
Get a bitch sea-sick, waves all on my
in my ear, Baccarat chandelier
Gabbana underwear, I'm so fly it ain't
Every day a dime piece
Rose Gold, a different piece
Hublot, AP or
Your bitch and your jeweler me, homie
I'm bulletproof, go 'head, take a at me
You be a nigga like the last one that got at me
My shirt level three, so I got a vest on
My heart like ice, my chest teflon
I'm a right here, just me and my knife, nigga
Don't let me find out you 'bout that life, nigga
It's doomsday, I goon day
I the orders, like, "air out the room, Dre"

You gon' be part of my bag ritual
Hop out, out to get at you
You gon' be part of my bag ritual
.45 lettin' off shit at you
You be put in a body bag, bag
You won't get a to fire back

The mileage had a shorty ass trippin', strippin' in my
Push my thumb in her ass I was strokin' her kitten
I be in my own zone, still clutchin' the
Talk of the art, [?]
My passport pages, I'm fuckin' round' out in London
Jetlag from [?] baguettes
Trippin' in my charm, bitch, I'm a don
So go how I say it go, fuck if I'm right or wrong
My long, bomb Kush in the bong
It feels like I'm 'cause a nigga on
I'm so far from a down, I'm out in Miami now
My no speak no ingles, she fresh off the boat
She give me neck, what you expect? I got connects for the
I'm no joke, blow 30k on the coke, ten in the coat
Nigga, front, I'll a hand full of dreadlocks
Bitch, I hit ass with a head-shot

You gon' be part of my body bag
Hop out, out to get at you
You gon' be of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off shit at you
You gon' be put in a bag, bag
You won't get a to fire back