Luyện nghe bài hát Smoke 50 Cent

[50
Yeah, I the way this feel
This me wanna just (G-G-G-G, G-Unit!)
somethin, hahaha (G-UNIT!)

[Hook: 50
you shit on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye
Survive the shots or die

Get 'em Banks!

[Verse Lloyd Banks - singing]
They hold me
I'm Lloyd Banks the one and
Not buddy, not your pal, not your ho-mey
But a government around that can control me
Oh no!!!

Uhh, I'm on "Doggystyle" shit, man I don't love a ho
Poppa wasn't 'round, so I had to let my brother
Never stay at center, play the back and let your grow
them niggas wouldn't be around if you was bummy yo
Southside Jamaica neighbor yeah that's where I from
If you see a nigga with me then there's than one gun
Fly straight soldier, ain'tcha tired of the dumb one
Or are you satisfied another nigga's Dun-Dunn
We all know turnin sour when you gettin it
Some niggas hate me in the hood, but I don't owe niggas shit
Smilin all up my face like I know them niggas sick
But I can care less, I'm on the and I'm gettin rich

[Verse Two: Young
Walk it and talk it, spit it how I it nigga
Came the country, Dirty South get it nigga
try and question me, they run up in my ho-tel
They there was a shootin, but they found no shells
New York City they throwin niggas under jails
I got love for dem and I ain't even dere
Now bust a for dem boys on da block
I can feel your nigga, I'm still in the game nigga
There's bout the sound of a trey-pound
That make me pull up, hop out, and a nigga lay down
See every time we 'round, you hear shots go off
And niggas get they chains when they tryin to show off
Shootouts in day, we do it the mob way
And come to find out, these niggas softer than
I'mma keep my life with a pistol in my palm
And a wrist of ice, you can call me a Don motherfucker

[Interlude:
We got the
So one wrong move and you're dy-ing
Ain't no time for coppin a plea and
Cause my niggas ain't gon' stop
So you

[Verse Three: 50
I got a handgun habit, nigga front let you have it
When the shots go off, sayin 50 back at it
I'm to the feathers on these bird-ass niggas (yea)
Front and I'll put brains on that curb fast nigga
I a marksman, one spark and I spray shit
Nuff rounds from that H-K, I don't play (uh-huh)
Move like I'm militant, back on gorilla shit
Moody, disrespectful, unruly, but niggas move me (yea)
I squeeze 'til I run out of ammo, if a problem it's handled
I have your people our liquor and lightin candles
You fuck I blow your brains on my New York Times
Run home, turn to the sports section and read mind
It's crystal clear, you should when that gat bust
First there's crime tape, then you end up in that black hearse
We don't go to funerals, but go to your wake fam
Do your all banged up, you made a mistake man