Luyện nghe bài hát What Son What

[Noreaga -
Lets keep it grimy! (get that shit)
What y'all niggaz get
What y'all gets unit (murder unit)
or burn (burn unit)
Get a real fuckin life (real life fuckin unit)
A unit; a motherfuckin, CNN shit (CNN!)
My Swift on the motherfuckin fours (fours)
We out y'all (what!)
Yo, yo.. we out y'all!
Capone-N-Noreaga]
[N] I say I don't really a fuck
[C] Why do don't really the fuck?
[N] Cause I don't really a fuck
[C] So we really give the fuck
[N] You gon' with me?
[C] Hell
[N] son what!? You gon' roll with me?
[C] yeah
[N] What son what!? You roll with me?
[C] yeah
[N] What son what!? You gon' ride me?
[C] Hell
[N] What son what!? You gon' die me?
[C] Hell
[N] son what!?

Right every I stack another war, story and track
down for money; hungry cats peddle the crack
Some strive to be the man but never it that's the granted further
What you playin the game, who gonna slash worker
Some'll pray to Jesus, I pray to Jes to us
look for bail Rufus bail Criminal Court
When a judge holla Father you
never sent a nigga to jail, they send him bail
I been as real as I stealin free
I got the greats from old man give me hearse and,
I made a from a plan scauwered new land (fuck a blue van)
My bang, ficticious niggaz, walk in the path that I lead (I lead)
Do crime in New York, and murder
Gentleman talk, ball Atlanta Hawk
No respect, on the stacks of the court
I started off in the street thing, triple on

[M.A.Z.E.]
Ya niggaz livin a lie, the same
Its no room, no BI for y'all in the
See me I, stay it pop
Off the like my diss and it rocks
Movin the same is the the spot
I'm hot, rock glizzery from the to top
Grizzy, let it pop, didn't he spy on these hoes
To off the killer in me
Me and six will through it (through it)
Bronx to the con do it
I see Don P calm as me, like spazin dead on your
Like to my eye, shit, write it down sincere
Get to say my in the air
Niggaz pipe down, put they mic
Niggaz scared that we ain't even yet
Yet this year we show ya all who the (hottest)
The projects, I rep to my (rep it nigga!)
X'd out hoes, we (X'd out hoes!)
We ain't sharin or 'boes; see how we go?
[Chorus] - with adlibs

Keep the Mac the seat
To fast niggaz to creep
And my niggaz stayin with
Like the hook go - son what!?
the shit go - what son what!?
See me in the though
a hood though, with a little puppet
And we doing no good
Pussy sub, sub, through the club
Niggaz don't no math
I rather, get head, I don't no ass
Fuck all of y'all, don't really rep for me
I you, and you ain't the set for me
I'm in different vicinities, gettin high with your
So better stop playin
I get the M-One and just start sprayin
Keep your on lock, so now you go
Nigga, I sell bricks like my Alpo


It's no rumor what you hear us in clubs
Or freight young Blood
No vest the shot for your mug
Snake niggaz hear the move, every chance get
Rap niggaz I'ma dead 'em on the they get
Hustlin niggaz, I y'all Uptown
Soon as papi hit you, I'm right you holding it down
Ya niggaz, got it
Pop and boo's
Might fit, make you come out of your
A little more
Every sixteenth spit a little more
Rap for M.A.Z.E. cause my nigga
I spit it for the
My bitches and freaks, lacking to twenty G's
every week, stylin out, Violator I'm wildin out
MU and thugged out, hoes talkin about
We off the yell dogg, the entire this song
me and M.A.Z.E. bet fire, thugged out strong, motherfucker


Huh? Huh? We say son what!?
Huh? What? (stop playing.. motherfucker)
Yeah, yeah; we say son what!?
Huh? Yeah, yeah; we say what son what!?
Huh? Huh? Yeah yeah, we say what son what!?
Burn unit, burn unit; my nigga Swift on the four's
what?
{*Noreaga continues to in background*}
Flex - over end of Noreaga]
Yeah, baby!
Out! Shout to Martin Moore
Shout to my man
is happenin baby
Sixty of Funk Volume Four (okay)
to Irv Gotti (ill sound, murder)