Luyện nghe bài hát In The Trunk

on
Where at, where they at, where they at

I sold tapes day me and Freddy B
Been famous 1983
Give me ten dollars, and you straight get
A rap all about you the special request
Oakland, you I go way back
To nuts, fal stangs, and cadillac's
When put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking
got addicted to my dopefiend beat
Whole fucked around and started smoking D
Every rap I ever was about this town
I made 7 whole albums with no James
And even though I love his music, I just can't
The way they it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you me weak
Cause I sell records in the East
Now what's funky, I say on an old hoe
I guess fools don't know
Why some good rappers sell no tapes
It's not the company's fault, the sounds fake
You wanna be in the trunk, with the box
While the young ride on your jock
You can't do it like this homey, so pass it
And stop them white folks asses
It's like you smoked a whole key
You rap so fast you keep leaving the
I'm from the old school, I love
But now rap is all that they want
So when I'm in my car, I play
And when I'm on the I start pimping
And when I your shit, I push eject
Then I it out the window with the rejects
And when the hard core rappers go
I to watch when they ass fall off
Cause ain't nothing worth like a sucka MC
And any rappers ever talk about me
I don't stop rapping, all they can say
And how I dogg bitches, day
But if you can't be a dogg, you're weak
You be like a side show freak
rappers try to come off positive
Where I'm from just ain't how it is
They say rap is here to stay
But the sucka MC's think that way
It 8 long years before I got my break
So I wonder why rapper's make fake ass
You won't get paid like I did, so up punk
And your in the studio, I'm in the trunk
You got no choice, so don't flip that
ain't the military, so you punks can't join
It pop, it's called underground rap
From Oakland California and the shit phat
I'm spitting raps to my motherfucking
That's why listen to the one and only
I to be broke, but now we all used to be
Got no game for a bitch, all the is for me
And bitches, can't say shit to me
They could could fuck with Short baby
I'm not a tounge twisting with a funny style
Don't hip hop and dance real wild
But I do sell like a motherfucker
Even though you might I'm just sucka
I find the beat and never switch
Grab the microphone and then call you a
You want rent money, I got pimp
One for sure, I won't give it to a hoe
I throw a bitch in the god trunk
And start slamming Oakland funk
Short Dogg's in the house, again
Trying to the platnum, with Shorty the Pimp
And when I do, I'm going to the bank
Withdraw some and buy some dank
You relate to my motherfucking homies
That's why listen to the one and only
I grew up on the called P
But these growing up on me
And if I ego trip, and my head is
I take my ass back, to I grew up
And get real boy, it's never too
Before I do like you and make a weak ass
I'm in the

In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk, in, in the
In the beating down the block

In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk down the block