Luyện nghe bài hát In The Wind

Verse MJG

Here the one they call the P.I. -- M.P.
Straight out the cut no one can see I -- bust
Way out of with all them bustas in my rear view
but see game, so lame, I can hear through
I Hens at the bar, actin real nice (real nice)
Six of Hen, straight up, with no ice -- tap me twice
Did you really want my full
Sometimes my mind (intertwine) with the dimension
I see you inchin to my ride, tired, them legs
as you open up your mouth (uhh) there's the head
Now who I be, MJG, certified, mic
(Uncle Sam, I want you!) bend over
I'm a petrified rapper talkin, and you nuttin
but an electrified walkin, I'm tired of savin
people takin these dead end trips, I'ma just go
and bust this champagne upside your ship, you hip?
You in a hurry? You relate?
Don't say that I ain't try to set it to you straight
I'm out the gate before you but I'll be back again
You saw me through the crowd but now I'm in the wind
again

Chorus: and MJG

In the wind, it's a bird, a plane
Now it be them hustlers with that tight game
In your mix, scopin you, me
Eightball and MJG to the end, bustas we in the

Verse Two:

I sold my soul to hustle, homeboy scratch what you heard
T front me a keyboard, I flipped it like a bird,
on them streets be them Suave House
In the Benz blowin got your gal between my sheets
Speak -- I have to say one little thang
The fame of my name blew the ghetto brain
for a meal ticket, she let me stick it
Wicked when she lick it, tryin to me trick it
Girl, when I was broke it seemed all the luxury
Now I got cheese, I got a pay a to love with me
But I'm a jelly worker, Smuckers
Workin against them suckers, big facin just to a
broad that done around the world in a day
lovin whoever got cheddar to pay
Ball like no trick ass, shakers if I tip
I be drunk, in the club, sticky cat nip
Slip, as if a banana peel was in my path
a body bodyworkin not discussin no math
Playa haters all around me as I stumble and
Snatch my vest, somethin, hit the rumble and then...

2X

Verse Three: MJG,

I flip scripts on young dips who think hip
Smoke up your whole zip, sess or crip
Time and time again, stories have told
About the super hustler tryin to get the gold
Concrete jungle of, carniverous firearm
for flesh, and pray on who ain't strong
Heavy weighters, plenty hoes that buy em alligators
In the wind, all big ?

artificial tricks stolen money makers
Money trees in please, help a player shake a
million to the ground, feel them hits fall
Ride me I'll run your game into a brick wall, trick y'all
is what this false literary do, then reality
(and the natural dust out you) who speaks the truth?
Whose your Whose your friends?
I plan to bring the realness again, but until then
I'm in the

4X