Luyện nghe bài hát Hell's Kitchen - Andre Nickatina

'My line of work is by some to be a...
a tumor on society, be careful Mr. there are benign tumors,
and there are others, that are malignant...'

(Saafir)
Ay-ay, (Saaf Bizzle)
Ay-ay, (Saaf Bizzle, Nickatina) Yo
Mothafucka in here with some Nickatine man...

(Andre Nickatina)
When the gat would hit, then the rhyme would
Gun nailed you to the
I ain't new man I'm true to this
nothin you can do to this
Chicken beg, mislead, a shot to the head
Instead we get high as a nigga yeah wit no dreads, no dreads
I get to that, who Thuggin that
Gotta go a bug in that
Post up where the is at
mothafucka where the lovin at
My computer brain is on high
Ripping a rocket man
Block it try to it man
end up in my pocket man
Bust like a in a watermelon
the CD there you're selling
Better not be mine or you gon' start to yelling
Fillmore rap academy, Bustin right at sanity
Ammo and artillery, clock a salary
Charge just like a battery, for and battery
Dead just like a battery, this major battery

(Saafir)
I bang that West Oakland my the silver and black
Raider nigga got his stripes from the shop where the filmed 'The Mack'
I got them rules on my shirt and I'm deep in this game
All angles spittin it so niggas get it confused with the fame
Let me tap that blackness on your eyeball 'What the fuck you lookin at?'
Then I got to remember, I'm strizzled and sacked and saucy off
I ain't no contender, I been holding these championship rings
Ammunition and big mothafucka I been 'Ladeem'
Niggas on the turf on American soil, gettin American green
Niggas hate 'cause I'm skyscraping the small shelf pit cigarettes
I promise a hospital harness, to be taken the farthest this life
Nickatine and Saafir, Sizzaline is the farthest on mic

(Andre Nickatina)
Walked out of court doin bragging

Bruce Lee down danger dragon
Blue jeans doin some major
can bump hard in the station wagon
Hot heavy and
Garlic with the spaghetti
Do it Bo-Bo, with a fo-fo
Ty fo-fo, Ty
Write to the gods like it's
Some might its imaginary
In the rap game I popped the cherry
What you say about that
it live a 45 number 2 pencil
Get my wave, for the perfect gangsta instrumental, ya feel me
it, load me up and then cock me back
Then come back with the counter rap
He's bustin till he collapse
Or at least until his chest plate

(Saafir)
I ain't one of these ass niggas
that from the town that spit what he don't do
But I'ma let him bumble a little more then I'ma hip all my to you
You about tryna be high that ain't fire that you spittin
Purple haze a fake crook get cooked and
and baked the fuck up in Hell's
I ain't one of bitch ass niggas
that from the town that spit what he don't do
But I'ma let him bumble a more then I'ma hip all my niggas to you
You about tryna be high that ain't fire that you spittin
Purple haze a crook get cooked and burnt
and baked the up in Hell's Kitchen
I know at his next he'll be slipping, 'cause his guns ain't clicking
He shine like stadium lights I'ma leave this nigga ice dripping
With some heat star 6-70
For a bitch ass Hollywood that wanna become a star that's heavenly
It's not hard, you can on me,
Serving like you, I'm the epitome
Only difference I drink much
And get deeply touched
think I give a fuck tryna get money
but shit if you gotta get hit I'll dump your off
Have ass under the Astroturf of some shit
that weak Halloween mask
and stab ass in a pumpkin, I'm dumping

Oakland...Saaf Bizzle...

'Finished with the assignment, beautiful, excellent work, work...'