Luyện nghe bài hát I Really Mean It

You see man, get off of that lame man
Let's get into we like to do man
This we do preferably man
We bring that powerful music to your man
Killa, let em something

Young Guru, Blaze, Killa, Diplomats, huh
Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Zekey
Hoffa, Dash, huh, Killa, huh

Ya'll niggas it, I have seen it
Body warm, heart
(I really it)
Coke, a nigga steamed it, fiends I em
Beemer it
(I really it)

Guns, really beaming, rarely miss, really good?
Bikes, wheelie and
(I mean it)
I'm a genius, poppadopalis, never
On your
(I mean it)

Killa, bury mutts, they actually all ducks
more trucks, it's daddy Warbucks
And you Orphan Annie, ma, take off panties
Sea and sandy
(I mean it)

Yeah, let's get lost in
I got lost in Boston,
Flossin' of Miami
Reno, sip pina colada

Mama I'm on the Prada
(I mean it)
I rock more in Phoenix road to
it, you seen it
(I mean it)

The abuse it, it's pain in music
But this year, wear remains the bluest
I get lame and lose it, beef to do it
Aim and it, flames til your brains the fluid
Ya'll just kids, see what I just did, a couple bars off
Let [unverified] live

Yeah, now that's music man
You to pop something and roll something
(I mean it)
Killa we did it man, I got your forever, Dip Set
(I mean it)

And them lames, we pop sideways
And them faggots
(I mean it)
Okay, we back in, listen
(I really it)
Hey yo lock my garage, my massage
Fuck it, bucket by Osh Bgosh

Golly, I'm gully, look at his
Gucci, gold, plaque collages
From collabos, ghost for assholes
to use my brain, than give Killa mad dough

It's all good, increase Killa flow
Increase my fame, that's why Killa hoes
You'll get swiped, look at my life
First ever, merked out Mekhi Phife

And Papi got jerked out of pies
Dip Set, we working with five
Cee-lo and craps, and stacks
I send bodies with, read note attached

Ya youngin' fucked boys in the hood
her a son like Ricky, from Boyz in the Hood'
On the couch bloody, old lady
screaming
(I really it)

little baby crying
Fuck man shit, there you seen it
(I mean it)
Fam man, you terry cloth, that mean you very
Gravy Mercedes, add the cranberry

Yeah, ride man
Flex we got you, up
(I mean it)
And all my ladies man, the ghettos a
I you, I want you
(I really it)

Oh, pop something, something
Get twisted, on Jim nigga
(I mean it)
Harlem! Man we to stay
It's left to say man
(I really it)

Eastside, and as for lame man
Now see I ain't even gone say your name
'Cause that's mine, I you, you know what it is
You faggot!

I ain't gone get to over you man
We bury you, holla!
See if you bout it, it
we is
(I really it)
NYC!