Luyện nghe bài hát On The Real

Yeah, yeah, on the, on the, on the
On the real, all you crab niggaz know the

Finally up in nigga
pay homage to Illmatic
Let's put the crown it's at
10 years never been done this real by

To my seed, may I lead you into no or evil
In the categories of I breed my sequel
You know the money, blues, blunts, broken
Monkey see, do

sipping sunny dew
Now V S O P in a phantom, mad smoky
Murder trees, cruisin' gat in the stash so it won't me
Up in the Trump Plaza, Suite 3010, don't no noise

'Cause we dirty them hoes hurry in
We got the room lit up with and mad boom
And there's taping bloomin' ass's on the zoomin' lens
on you nondescript niggaz

You're marked for death like Colombians with bad coke gyp niggaz
Tilt the dutch, twisted up the uwee if you're enough
In will we trust, salute the the nine mili busts

That verse is 10 years old, 9 1/2 old
Disciple
The Rebirth comin' at you year baby
It's on

to the hood, may this be the day that we pop them bottles
This is mandatory, what if not tomorrow?
You the murder rate, jealousy, you heard 'em say
He say, she say, I'm cheddar, he don't deserve to make

Sippin' clear liquor niggaz, that talk sideways
close, to every word in case they violate
Up in the projects 5D
Spark a lea' it's bout da reed, countin' everything the see

We 'bout to need to take the corners them cowards
Get it on so can move more coke powder, by the hour
Hold in case we gotta rip
Loaded teflon coated projectiles'll niggaz

From ninth grade to to grams to my
Mans with in hand
Police vans, they the summers again

Yeah, to the people
Death to the
This to the mic 1, 2 check
fed-e-rallies on me

And they like you approachin' me like how you, homie?
The F B I see one problem, they try to slump me
After the young male 'cuz he makes a lot of money
So hustlers crack sales 'cuz they deprived and hungry

My country hates that I could run free state to with hunnies
While cake with real golded plate rims on Hum-V's
The bush stroker, the kush smoker,
Just you thought it was over look over your shoulders

I'm 30 now, baby sip and sip 'em slow
Motto no stress, smokin' than I did befo'
You see the kid was broke till I vivid expressions of hard
ghetto children, of a lesser god, religion was fast women
Expensive cars y'all witnessin' over 10