Luyện nghe bài hát In The Trunk

on
Where they at, where they at, where at

I sold tapes every day me and B
Been famous 1983
Give me ten dollars, and you straight get
A rap all about you the special request
Oakland, you know I go way
To coug nuts, fal stangs, and
homeboys put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's burners
Everybody got addicted to my beat
town fucked around and started smoking D
Every rap I ever made was this town
I made 7 albums with no James Brown
And even though I his music, I just can't stand
The way they it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me
Cause I sell records in the East
Now funky, I say pussy on an old hoe
I guess fools don't know
Why some good can't sell no tapes
not the company's fault, the shit sounds fake
You be in the trunk, with the booming box
While the bitches ride on your jock
You can't do it like this homey, so pass it
And stop kissing them folks asses
It's like you a whole damn key
You rap so fast you keep leaving the
I'm the old school, I love P-Funk
But now rap music is all that they
So when I'm in my car, I Clinton
And when I'm on the stage I pimping
And when I hear shit, I push eject
Then I throw it out the window the rejects
And when the hard core go soft
I like to watch they ass fall off
Cause ain't nothing worth like a sucka MC
And any rappers ever talk about me
I don't stop rapping, all they can say
And how I dogg bitches, day
But if you be a dogg, then you're weak
You be phony a side show freak
rappers try to come off positive
Where I'm that just ain't how it is
They say rap is here to stay
But the sucka don't think that way
It took 8 long years I got my break
So I wonder why rapper's fake ass tapes
You won't get like I did, so give up punk
And your in the studio, I'm in the trunk
You got no choice, so don't flip that
This ain't the military, so you can't join
It ain't pop, called underground rap
From California and the shit sounds phat
I'm spitting raps to my homies
why they listen to the one and only
I used to be broke, but now we all to be
Got no for a bitch, all the game is for me
And these bitches, say shit to me
They could never could fuck with Short
I'm not a tounge twisting rapper with a funny
Don't dress hip hop and dance real
But I do records like a motherfucker
Even you might I'm just another sucka
I find the beat and then never
Grab the microphone and then call you a
You rent money, I got pimp money
One thing's for sure, I won't it to a hoe
I a bitch in the god damn trunk
And start that Oakland funk
Dogg's in the house, once again
Trying to fade the platnum, with the Pimp
And when I do, I'm going straight to the
some money and buy some dank
You can't to my motherfucking homies
That's why they listen to the one and
I grew up on the funk P
But these motherfuckers up on me
And if I ego trip, and my head is
I take my ass back, to where I up
And get real boy, never too late
I do like you and make a weak ass tape
I'm in the

In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk, in, in the
In the beating down the block

In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk down the block