Luyện nghe bài hát It's Good

I'm as real as come, I follow the rules
I'm still in the hood but I probably move
Made enough money, I f-ck around
I just felt they needed me, so I stuck
got my man, shit is real son
Cause my god son became my real son
Think life is a but all you get is a turn
You live and you learn, you freeze or you burn
Kush in the air, I'm the gears
Love into hate, hate turned into fear
If it right, I don't sign the deal
me in the watch, I got time to kill
Gasoline, propane, no salary cap in the dope game
no collective bargaining on cocaine
So in other words nigga, do thing

Mind in one place, heart in
pardon my brother
He's angry at you niggas who dont have your heart in your rap shit
And got too f-ckin comfy, cause we still f-ckin
Young Money, got the
Faded, faded, aww yeah im f-ckin faded
They tellin' about me, aww yeah i must've made it
Rikers Island on this flow, 8 months for that
But at least they had some bad bitches workin' in that shit
Ahhh, 3 visits later, I and did it major
So the judge, and the jury, and the litigator
Watchin all these kids who thought had it figured out
And then came, they let my nigga out

Wayne]
Stop playin, I aint with bullshit
Niggas act bitches. Shanaynay, oh my goodness
This is World, and y'all are just some tourists
Give me three wishes, I wish, I wish, I wish, you would
Brand new p-ssy, p-ssy good as baby
Two glock 40s, nigga you got 80
Swimmin' in the money, Imma need f-ckin goggles
Its to give, but we dont give a f-ck about 'em
I just came home, shit got real hoe
Lil Weezy-ana, the nigga, steal toe
I workin with a full deck but I deal hoe
I touched down, kick the motherf-ckin field goal
Talkin baby money? I got your baby money
Kidnap bitch, get that 'how much you love your lady' money
I know you fake nigga, press your brakes
I'll take you out, that's a date
Im a grown ass blood, stop with me
Play and get an ass whippin'
I you pussy cat ha, hello kitty
I throw the alley-oop to Drake Griffin
I lay em down,
This shits a game of chess, you niggas think its
Its money, yeah 'tis the season
I give you the business, bitch this a business
My hungry, my bitches greedy
Will I die a bloody murder? Dear Mr.
Nigga, Im straight, my a faggot
on the barrel, pop pop tater salad