Luyện nghe bài hát On My Briefcase

(lynch):
Now on my briefcase was some crumbled
A pack of and a 24 ounce o.e.
Might as well skeez these of hoes
In my 69 malibu sittin' on and vogues
For days you might have seen me in my cinnamon cut chrome
With some you can't see me tint on the windows indo
Smokin' it up, not givin' a fizuck
Sold the cut, my ex-hoe said nigga's sqautin' what?
Got at the homie carl, and got some of that
Had me so high I got off like vietnam
bodies and bitches clits simmerin' in the crock pot
And the don't stop until my muthafuckin' chronic or high drop
It's that insane type of thang, let the mac rain guts in the drain
Siccmade niggas they make the go round
And if you fuck siccmade music you can get your ass gunned down

(phonk beta):
I had a homie who stayed up in alaska, to transfer flights over nebraska
And flew me about a ounce of that alaska indica weed
And out of the zip possessed one seed
Had it wrapped tight all up in cellophane
have the k-9 dogs smell it, man
If only you saw what I was seein', the buds was pure white, not green
Had to be one of those one hitter quitter dome
That's the type a that makes you wanna fuck your baby-sitter
I roll a fattie, I roll this fattie
Niggas'll be all noid wonderin' why lookin at me
have the nerve to say my shit ain't bomb
But have your lungs burnin', like your puffin' on napalm

(zagg):
I wipe sweat up off my forehead, I'm off the cusche
Lay and take a comfortable hit, with a q-tip, it's splittin' my lips
And my dome split off toothpicks
I hit a lick a quickness, dumpin' dead bodies in ditches
Appreciate the fact, come correct, 'cause I could be
Suspicion, comin' up on recognition I'm creepin' up behind
With a 12 gauge, non-fiction, I'm all to go for mine
So step in line, a couple of hits, dome split, I be lit on a for base
With a machete I'll slice your neck like them jason cases
Murder traces, but I ain't pinned 'cause there's no
Slight scent of that purple cusche plant, and I can sense the essence
What's the lesson? get tested, don't come if you can't correct
It's that west coast shit for life I don't know what you
I'm reckless, nevertheless I'm a pimp in a bulletproof
Puttin' it down, pound for pound, you need to take a down
50 rounds, I'm runnin' through your whole town
em down like doom set on deathmatch with the bfg-9000 cartoon