Luyện nghe bài hát What We Do

Man, if I get rocked, shit for my kids, nigga
It's that real

Even though what we do is

We hustle 'til the sun come up
Crack a 40 when the sun go
It's a cold winter, y'all better bundle up
An' I bet it be a hotter summer, a onion

Yes, the ROC gets down, you hot now, up
Don't you know whole purpose is to lock us down?
An' throw away the key, but without this shit
Your kids got no way to eat

We still try to Mom smilin'
'Cuz when the teeth showin'
An' the stomach growlin', then the heat start flowin'
If you from the hood, I know you feel me, keep

If a sneak start leanin' an' the heat workin'
my heat start workin', I'ma rob me a person
Catch a nigga while he out in the open
An' get him, keep flowin'

We gotta raise our while we livin'
Make a million off a record, bail my outta prison
Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus, just my boys in the
Nigga talk reckless, I hit 'em with the Smif an'

But I'm snitchin', I'm a rider
If my kids hungry, snatch the dishes out ya
I'll be til they pick me outta line up

We the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it
Wyle out, fuck niggaz up, about it
I'm not tryin' to the morgue
But Freeway move out 'til I sit with the

'Til I get my together, clean up my sins
got it in like 10 in the mornin'
An' I can get it to ya like 10 you yawnin', man

deliver the order, man
An' I ain't 'bout chicken an' gravy, man
I'm talkin' 'bout bricks 'o ye yo, halves an'
4 an' a halves of hash, you do the

Swing past us, up your daughter
She wanna roll wit' a thug that rap, you do the
He won't blast 'til my in order

Man, lemme get 'em
Hove never slackin', man, zippin' in the black
Faster the red ghost, gettin' ghost wit' Pac, man
One time, a got a knack to get that change
Leader of the gang, ROC, man

Bang T-Mac, ski mask, air it out
Gotta kill witnesses 'cause Free's beard's out
Y'all don't want no witness shit, we hammers, man
Bullets breeze by you, Louisiana, man

But I feed Tianna, man
So I move keys, you can call me the Man
Rain, sleet, hail, snow, man
dough, E, hydro, man

Know B. in the third lane
still prayin', workin' on my nerves, man
Like, "Son you gotta get soul clean
Before they blow them horns Coltrane"

But still I cry tears of a
Wipe from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers
above us, make beds for the babies
Tuck kids covers, buy cribs for their mothers

Shit, I'll probably be with their fathers
Tell Ms. Robert, Enijah that I'm ridin' for her father
That's my brother, like same mother, different father
Any Dog, know I got 'em

An' still we grind the bottom
to make it to the bottom, sold crack in the alleyways
Still gave back Marcy 'A Day'
Real gangstas make holidays

They ain't thank us but we paid homage, man
Food Sunday, lookin' like Big Momma's, man
Tell the gang I break my promise, man, man

Even though what we do is
Even though we do is wrong