Luyện nghe bài hát Money

[Intro - Omillio - talking (Freeway)]
(I need some money, man)
I feel you
Goin this recession and shit
Now them actin up
Bills keep in, shit, focus

1 - Freeway]
I used to get money from slingin the
But since they cracked down on that slingin, I'm broke
And I used to get money from slingin the
But since they cracked down on crack slingin, I'm cracked
I used to get it there, expert at 'em back
But now it ain't no packages to get
Prior to I was fillin apps
A few years before was in the Barbershop sweepin hair
Little Barbershop kid, cop a hustle
Was sellin incense and oils to all the people
Sixth, seventh and eighth grade I kept a
Dollars for work and fresh sneakers, I was 'em
Yep, now it's a recession and I'm
I need it for lesser, I'm not to be a working man
I'm sure not tryin to do like my pops
Big in the bottom of his back and it be hurtin him, damn!

[Chorus - Mr.
Ohhh, I close my and all I can see is that money (money, money)
(money, money)
A of things that my people need but first is money (money, money)
(money, money)
It like I found a pot of gold (no)
ain't a dream, this is reality homes
That's why my focus is on that money (focus on the money)
(money, money)

[Verse 2 - Omillio
Just broke a new broad, she wants the car
A nigga stacked up a yard, she tryin to it all
I'm out slingin the hard and respect the law
a few wrong corners and that, of course, involved
From C-A to D-A, tryin to take it all
I think I need a vacation, reach out through cards
Or make the frame vicious and start a Holocaust
I figure man, what's the difference? That all a cost
Fuck it, let a ball
Money, money,
Money is my bitch, ho breed envy, I pourin Henny
Screamin "fuck 'em!", the nigga in me
Y'all ain't come from the or trenches with me
When knocked and locked me
Guns plural, riches to El Toros
the projects, suburbs to the Borough
Runnin through small town
Philly game and lock it down
Focus and only for one purpose, that is

[Verse 3 -
Philly Free on his grind, I my paper straight
So I'm creatin rhymes without a paper mate
That got me bustin lines, they got me rackin my mind
They got me in line behind my label mates
No, I'm not Jay but I am on the way
And I am not Kanye but I can produce & 808s+
And the studio costs
'Cause I'm in the hood, I'm not lampin in the Mandalay
I'm makin hits, I need the attention they get
Them niggaz throw a temper tantrum, you don't 'em pay
Record labels to jerk me like a hand job
If they don't hand me mine, I know how to handle
Leave somebody slumped, Pump pistol grip
But fuck sittin in wastin my plans away
I guess I gotta find another way to the pay
Let me know if you can find a way to the chips