Luyện nghe bài hát Sicc & High

Brotha
(Talking)
man, ya know, I was trying to tell you nigga man,
that was trippin out man. I did all kinds of shit,
for him and shit, and I help that outa bad situations, you know?
Cuz was man, I was like man.
Still was talking shit nigga, dirty ass songs me and shit, you know.
Man, so I gotta hit him

Nigga you tha, of comedy,
and Ima be g what Ima be.
Let you see that shit at range,
when I tap you the bang, wrap you up in cellophane (sphhhh).
be the endin, no pretendin,
siccmade and high side crash?, do a by wide em.
Do or die by in em, get in em, any time, any where.
Cut through the like Chris Webber.
Better get it together nigga, I toughen up leather with a,
touch, you in the neck, get my respect, you muthafuckin bet.
Might as well not sweat when I put these flames to set,
and leave you, like robinson.
My weigh 24 tons, and I got them,
niggas on rum in em, and those 221s, you getted done.
why I pack my gun,
cause when you tappin into gangsta shit you gotta pack yo gun.
Some niggas gon shoot, niggas gon run.
Its all mathematical, bet off and get tragical?,
out the cadillac roam with the metal thangs,
to do that thang, you know, cellophane.
To hit them thangs,
smash off in the cup you get that hedikane?
You watch that medic bring, bags and gloves.
I gotta be thug (why?), I made that decision a time ago.
Drinkin 40s in dominoes,
goin through with hoes, you know how it goes.
I aint been doin no shows, aint been on no toes.
But the p11 9mm ruben (whats that?), is the I chose.
I dont need much cause Im like shaq diesel,
and I the way the ruben make dead people.
Catch em out the church steeple,
he did my people.
You know, to the first degree,
and Im cript to my funeral, so it aint no hearsin me.

Bouncin off to the turf, is A-Blocc,
Im posted pushin yayrocks?, to see through these niggas character.
They blasted like the glock, neighborhood watch lookin,
but I keep jookin, shit I know where gots his birdies cookin.
I probably em.
See the plots to get richer quicker, make my thicker,
perkin off the finest liquors, pass pen, get clutched.
I get my bucks man, MOB, thats money bitches,
six straight with switches, got the feds takin pictures,
half half dope, invested my ism, is some pimp, hes upset with a hoe.
And made her till my pockets got the mumps like gody?
Ask the bitch, she said, oh hes a fuckin cody.
So D, pistols from fake IDs.
I put hoes in shady niggas, left them eatin our piece.
Roll through the ghetto, vogues smoked like indo.
High speed chases throwin out the window.
Im by the task, and bitch ass niggas gun blast,
and all I wanted was the cash.
Shit its like Im hunted but I still get blunted through the set.
Ima do my thing for now though, cause they killed me yet,
and if I die then I die, shit, even shed a tear.
Im better off where Im goin man, cause I happy here.
Got no fear, shit, them niggas bruise I bruise,
lose screws? like I do, nigga, how you choose nigga, ooh!