Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

[Chorus: Brotha Hung]
That motherfucker sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck
And you don't know nuthin but the killa gotta
4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must had gin in the cup
'cause I'm in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch
It all started I twisted the lid of the Olde E
And see E-A-R-double-O-E... ... ... (??)
Where my motherfuckering jacket at
that's the only one I could use
When I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out shoes
It was the pressure from the gage(the twenty gage)
Felt like it could split your chest whide wit it
Well nigga you should when I'm round that shit
Bout the nigga that's my
Should've the deal while you was givin out that info...
...mation, I'll be of that Parry
When I hit em all up, creep em all up, em all up, fill em all up
Real deal, dig em' a ditch, then take they
Put em in the back of the Cadillac em how my Mini-Mac gonna act
My is lethal
Leave the whole hella smokey
like that band steppin over dead people
It's like that, and you wouldn't know it 'cause cool ass mufucca
Done delt witt a gang of
as I wait for the to heat up like a Hot Pepper
Gotta whole load fulla
and a trunck fulla FO no's and I can't let go
Catch you at yo show
trippin, rows rippin in the street after I heat my heat
off the hook with this shit, straight made nigga
Fuck it, pass me the straight lace liquor to the nigga
Off the Thunder and Kool-Aid and O 8
on the liver still make me kill a nigga
Split you head a pineapple
Die natural!
Five at your dome em home in a pinebox
I Lift you out your sox
Pay attention to the
Its Half pass a niggas ass lay em in the grass take suitcase fulla cash and mash
16 in the clip crumble the urb roll a sliff to whatch you brain split in half
Bloody bath watter, infried nigga nuts and locaded at home I think him name is Tyrone
But you know...

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you don't know but the killa gotta away
4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the up, must have had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 2: Lynch Hung]
You can call me black Sadam
Pump St Idees through my ass nigga
You can see me on the southside of the
Man by the ((opposet)) nigga that flod the city
Get ready for some pretty if you like Frank Nitty
Sucked blood from my momas tittie - of milk
Played muzicc in my tape deck - instead of Silkk
End up killen one of motherfuckers
So fuck hoes, they like Grim
havin killin niggas they gots to go
woke up at 3 am - got high til
Jumped in my what you ma call it throughwards heaven, whit my
50 sacc of some shit, that'll you get there
11:30 with your T-shirt dirty,
I'm worthy strapped like James as ventured in faulty game
In a mainframe, that I n bucked away, then hit the plane
15 on a tripple beam scale nigga
acual contact from the strap that I hale

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his the back of his neck left
And you don't know nuthin but the gotta away
4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

3: Brotha Lynch Hung]
They got motherfucker twisted up
And from the sound of the I got hella motherfuckers runnin up
What should I do about fuckin fleas?
Give em all they want and put they seeds in weed
Figga a way out this nigga I you got me in file
But I got you on scanner so anotha way (anotha way)
me it was (?Coda steady?)
But I catch you slippin pimpin
and shake bankin (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your workin these swine
tripp time get's as you meat the Grim reapa
in the form of a man double M 24 5 got your brains leaking I'm
That's why these nigga wanna rip me
I'm rollin squeeky and you ma want call it
witta .45 in my pocket and I'm a young
P-Folks I had to make it happen
Sacramentos most wanted I gotta keep packin, of that
My favorite cousin go four years
And when his little brotha he showed me no tears
your point is shit get deep as the
Take a shiesty niggas and rub it on like lotion
It was like: once apon a time a long ago
I was sticken 9 milis in a hole
Get of the Ol 8 old moe then i gotta go to a spot
when they know I'm the leath nigga given up my info

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That motherfucker kept sniffin for
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you don't know nuthin but the killa away
Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the
Wit the windows up, have had gin in the cup
I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)