Luyện nghe bài hát Body Parts 3

Crunchy Blac, Mane, Frayser Boy, Lil' Wyte, Chrome
Granddaddy Souf, Juicy J, Pat, DJ Paul the king of Memphis
'em up

Hypnotized minds, HCP, camp posse
We finna do for all you thievin' ass
Wanna be us ass niggaz out
Stealin' motherfucker, take ya fake asses on keep it real nigga
Make this like we makin' it nigga, throw it down

Ain't never been a bitch
Hypnotized here to get that grip
Y'all talk 'cuz ya talk like a bitch
Y'all niggaz walk 'cuz ya walk like a

Now that some shit ya hatin' on this click
You gon' make a get up with cha kid
yo wig oh yes, I did
I told you, you don't it with a hard hitta kid

I done warned the glock spot to spot hit the
Hit a nigga for his spot
Took the nigga was got that was the plot
the cops they labeled it another closing shop

Open it up for closin' it up I don't give a
On a daily I be postin' it up
Smokin' it up it to match it wit dub
Give us a club six tearin' it up

These niggaz misleaded I'mma throw the blow
Leave a nigga shirt soaked getcha merked hoe
Chop it yeah, I hope money what I work fo'
Paul and Juicy sent me put you in the dirt bro

Comin' the pistols is easy we can get you guys
Frayser boy bizzle or beezy the hypnotize
HCP them my weed got my eyes low
If you know what I know run shit to my doe

We back motherfucker we smack
If you step in our way killaz motherfucker
But know ya'll done heard all that befo'
Y'all seen the fo-fos and folks kick in ya doe

You done seen the pump bout to see a Chevy trunk
out next to the Mississippi river plumped
Duck tape hog tied wrong place time
Hypnotized minds knocked ya up off ya grind

All my muhfuckers you niggaz should already
I'm the truth and out the booth been a hoe
Get yo ass flipped sideways cut ya the doe
You ain't know I'm a young rich nigga

Never one of them old type wanksta niggaz
I'm a muhfucka ask my mama who made me
A lotta niggaz mad 'cuz know they can't fade me
I'm Chrome Carleone and Juicy who pay me

Well ya boy grandaddy call me Mr. Man
Fuckin' ya aunties ya nieces and ya
See I could a fuck about ya tossin' all ya tough talkin'
You like me nigga hit me in my mouth

Man talk about it be about it get cha point across then
Candy ass boy you softer than cotton
Fight me or it 'cuz I ain't 'bout the spit boxin'
Hootin and hollerin' like a cheerleader

You can't be me slangin' D 'cuz I'm hurtin' ya
No with the juice 'cuz it's curtains
It ain't nothin' shakin' but some pimps in bizitch
That's why you muggin' and yo face lookin'

flippin' cars ballin' out like to shizine
You stay askin' questions how the hell them do that
We smoke the best of dro while she down with jack-jack
My eyes like the red carpet on the blue side

They locked me up like 2Pac and I went platinium
Laid it down for a calendar I'm right at 'em
Took my game then weighed it up on a triple
Niggaz rob, kill, murder steal for that green

U.S. marshal at my folks house to kill me dead
Wanna see me in a pine box in my head
I'm was like, "I did shit why you hatin' this?"
Ghetto thugs know my rap they relate to this

I been doin' this too long to still be strugglin' livin' like
Fuckin' off major labels slayed me like a bitch
And these got and ride on rolls it mean hoes
But still on the road free shows

Tryna get a few spins in a few
I growed up back in the day I use my glock
I a lotta corny shit on the radio
That's because they record wouldn't spend dough

Yeah, my label got a up with MTV
But they just forgettin' to tell 'em 'bout me
They try to play like its love and it's
But all my dollars goin' to, shh

Tear da club up was the first crunk song
I that in 92 a lil' not long
That it took 10 million sold and we still on
That's why three 6 is the most known