Luyện nghe bài hát Virginia

You ready to do this,
You to come down here?
Virginia, nigga...
We do this in daylight...
It's a different degree of homicide, nigga...
You

Pusha T & (Pharrell)]
I'm from Virginia, ain't shit to do but cook (Talk about, what?)
Pack it up, sell it triple-price, the books (Talk about, what?)
we re-up, re-locate, re-off them brooks (Talk about, what?)
So when we up, it ain't shit to do but look (Talk about, what?)

T]
In my "Home Sweet Home" I keep chrome to my bones
Alters my to limpin'
Since I love the feel, I guess I'm passionately
It 'tis it seems
That thing imprintin' through the seams of my jeans, by all
Lost it all, lives to love
Put my faith in my money, me rise above
See I to the Lord when them times got tough
Bullied streets, powder I pushed and shoved
In ole' Virginey
Out of ten niggas, nine are
No money, all they know is gimme, got waitin'
Heat Caribbean summers, I been there
year, a diffferent bitch wonder
Who wing she gon' under, Push' or Mal'
Ganga grinds, wit' me, with thoughts of them cross her mind
Look ma, that's up my alley
I love my family, I want all happy
In Virginia, we at that Simpson trial
Yeah, I guess the was wild
But the fuss about?
See, plenty my feelin' like O.J.
Beat murder like the shit is OK, that's what our say
Talk the evil men do, I'm lost in the mental
I miss you Shampoo, we you Shampoo
And grams, too...

My nigga...
Fo sho...

[Chorus 2X's: T & (Pharrell)]
I'm from Virginia, ain't shit to do but cook (Talk about, what?)
Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the (Talk about, what?)
we re-up, re-locate, re-off them brooks (Talk about, what?)
So we pull up, it ain't shit to do but look (Talk about, what?)

Seem like all got a comment to make
In regards to my paper, now they my weight
They fast to predict the outcome of my
Wonderin' 'bout and if they got what it take
Malice, he he hard, tough guy of the clique
And Pusha, he walk around he swear he the shit
You right on counts, bitch, Clipse is us
And are some things that you don't discuss
Don't ask me 'bout the and what's they fair
Don't ask about the loud chick with the hair
Don't ask about my music, and how that's 'bout
Don't ask my album, or when's it comin' out
'Cause I feel like you really being funny on the
Now down, layin' on your tummy, or you die
I being humble, humble get no respect
Now the first sign of trouble, that's a hole up in neck
Plus, I look like spendin' my nights in jail
I never be a thug, they don't dress this well
I reside in VA, in VA
Most when I die, I'm gon' die in VA
Virginia's for lovers, but trust there's here
For out-of-towners, who think that they gon' move weight
Ironic, the same same I'm makin' figures at
That there's the same land they to hang niggas at, in Virginia...

[Chorus Pusha T & (Pharrell)]
I'm from Virginia, where ain't to do but cook (Talk about, what?)
Pack it up, sell it triple-price, the books (Talk about, what?)
we re-up, re-locate, re-off them brooks (Talk about, what?)
So when we pull up, it shit to do but look (Talk about, what?)

Young'n... (Talk about, what?)
is real, young'n... (Talk about, what?)
You lookin' into a whole different world, (Talk about, what?)
is real...
Live...