Luyện nghe bài hát THRT (The End)

Yo once a gets threats
That's right, that's the the that's, that's threats
And I'm about mine, I'm so sin-surr
And I, nigga kill ya, I'll chop ya up
Put ya inside the mattress like drug money

Yeah, I done told you 9 or 10 times stop fuckin' with me
I done you niggaz 9 albums, stop fuckin' with me
I done told you niggaz the 9 on me, stop fuckin' me
You niggaz must got 9 lives, 9th

Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life ya
Am I ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it you a song
I let it hum to ya, the one sing along

Now it's a duet, and you wet, you check out
The technique from the 2 and I don't need two lips
To this like a trumpet you dumb shit
This is a musical I conductin'

You lookin' at the Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic
I care if you C. Delores Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you rilin' me up
For three years, they had me out of a cup

Now they 'bout to free me up, whatchu think I'm be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I feel hatred
I'm young black and rich so they strip me naked, but
You never had me like Christina

But catch me the Westside, drivin' like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the of my car
Screamin' out the sunroof, death to
You can't kill me, I forever through these bars

I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your
The whole hood'll want ya, you to look like bread
I send them at ya, I ain't talkin' bout Feds
Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you heard I said

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the
Put your smarts on the of your garment
Nigga stop fuckin' me
R I P

That's there nigga, nigga I'm wild
I keep trash bags with me
Never know when you gotta dump a out
This sin-surr, this some sin-surr shit right

Grown man I put hands on you, I dig a in the desert
build The Sands on you, lay out blueprint plans on you
We Rat niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you
Then, I shot ya God damn you

I put the boy in the box like Blaine
Let the audience watch, it ain't a
Y'all wish I was frontin', I George the button
Front of all you in your car up your hood nigga run it

Then up your whole hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods, y'all don't nuttin' of it
Like, castor oil, I Troy you
Change your face or the bullets change all for you

Y'all is targets, y'all garages for bullets
Please don't make me park it in your upper
Valet a couple strays from the 38 special,
God you

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the
Put smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop with me
R I P

Yeah I'm ya, yeah I'm threatenin' ya
Who you thank you dealin'
They call me Chris, nigga I been threats
I been in kindergarten nigga
Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't

When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you
numchuks held by the Jet L-I
I'm the one, meanin' no one must try
No two, no three, no four, why?

Because one's might blow yo' high
You ain't gotta go to to get to know yo' God
It's a match in heaven when I 'splay the 7
Put you on the news, UPN at 11

you been, you ain't heard, got the word that I'm
That I'm so
I'm Joe Pesci with a grin
I will you, commit suicide, and kill you again, that's right

I make 'em wait for you five in the mornin'
Put your smarts on the side of garment
Nigga stop with me
R I P

Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers what?
Nigga I'll throw a Molotov
Through momma's momma's house
Nigga what the, where live

Undercover nigga take your out your mouth nigga
your food up and put the shit back
In your mouth nigga and help you
Nigga I take a mop off nigga
And sweep nigga, on, I'll be nigga what?