Luyện nghe bài hát It Was Written [Explicit]

Six ways to die
(Took a lot to get Rollie nigga)
Six million ways to get
(Huh, hah)

Everybody keep telling me "make a record"
You trapping no more, stop making drug records
You got a daughter bout to come, stop thug records
I brought that back fast, I had the plug flexing
Welcome to Harlem, el Barrio, that's the section
Hit your bitch with my jeans on, ain't making love
I got love for my but I know cuz reckless
I ain't gotta sleep in the projects, I did enough
My father was a stone but taught me one lesson
Do your dirt by yourself, your friends be the telling
I knew it broke my mother's to know her son selling
I had coke in my dresser, as ever
I had a dream featured me on Life After
I be my same niggas, I don't really like rappers
Niggas can't make a song for but they nice actors
Go and get a movie role, low up tuna rolls, raw shit
I come from a block where you seen it but never saw
I be at the juice bar, my grass and bark shit
My younging just came from up north, he to park shit
Tryna him something bout life and how we started
Lower poverty, homies from jail calling me
Playing the number everyday but hit the lottery
Liquor store on every corner, as well get drunk
I remember that free lunch wasn't shooting, we would stones
like the end of the blunt, traps load up
I told papi I got him by the end of the
I was thinking bout 550's the cinnamon guts
These blow your mind away, now your memory dust
And memory of, I got a JF buzz
called enterprise, I need another rental
Tryna take a package to North Carolina
Maybe buy some Ferrigamo, I'm so on the commas

If you been broke it's gon' be hard to feel me
Allah get my flow, it's gon' be hard to kill me
They say practice perfect, we at it every day
about that consignment, sometimes I never paid
It was I'm gifted, homie come learn something
Conversations bout paper homie, burn something
It was written I'm gifted, homie come learn
bout paper homie, let's burn something

It's hard to stop what's in motion
I ain't gotta hit your blunt, I've already smoking
G Star denims on my shit
In '08 my mental was on some murder shit
nothing was work enough
Just to pass the time working out
Me and my Jay Black from way back
He a nigga, met him in Queens
Butch crib, met up fiends
Imagine Nas signed you, of a dream
pinch me
Promise nothing they say getting to me
Used to House Party, not kidding play listen to me
This that talk that the hustlers want to open shop
This that stash house talk, don't let 'em know the
This that talk got my city wanting to rap again
This that all everything like an African
This that middle of the summer in a trench
Glock 19 them of how you been broke

If you never been broke it's gon' be hard to me
Only Allah get my flow, it's gon' be hard to me
They say practice make perfect, we at it day
Thinking about that consignment, sometimes I never
It was written I'm gifted, homie come learn
Conversations bout homie, let's burn something
It was written I'm gifted, homie come learn
bout paper homie, let's burn something

I talked my way right up out the nigga
Put mind to it, anything is possible haha
a hole in the wall, yeah
Now we in the presidential man
Top floor, flower for bust nigga
Harlem,