Luyện nghe bài hát Next Up

Gawddayum, I know what y'all been thinkin' 'bout
But I think this right here is about to shut dem damn down

I'm from the streets make niggaz walk slow, talk low
With chalk-o, mi casa be siete uno ocho
Brooklyn motherfucker, handle
Pardon my and French

Okay, I stay clever like with lay leather
Till your sever, one of the greatest ever
Beyond ringin' bells, my name's so
Shit, I got the swagger that'll leave Dakota

I hope you niggaz over standin', I sucker-free
The next king of in the game, you got enough to be
Your last a week, that'll be luckily
Fuck with me, the rap need protective custody

I'm the same thug that be surrounded women
Gave the game true before you found it in denim
Feel the Wrath of and you could not escape
The hip hop version of The Ring and you just the tape

And keep eyes on the niggas in Ward
black in the candy painted car is the color of board
Me or my on pall with n'am nigga
We trill, the wheel, understand nigga?

I and split a bitch down to the tendon
pressure, if you don't break your ass bendin'
I'm way past endin' in my of warnin'
You with me tonight, playa, you dead by the mornin'

Bun Beater, the ever breathin' or deceased
From the to Midwest, Cali to the East
Go to any city and bring my name up
I bet I eat the best they got in the game up

a nigga up, email him or chirp him
Make a meal out his motherfuckin' ass and then him
fuck around, I'm not your lil' homey
I'm the King of the Underground, so act you know me

Homie, we big steppin', big
We givin' kids & Wesson's lessons, you get left with a sketchin'
with the Midwest, clique Texans
G. and Daddy Kane, the click Texas, pop you to

I put planes on swift Jetsons, niggaz know what it is
When you see the ball cap and a slick
Till you strip vexin to a movie clip the Westerns
Shit from the Uzi lift up your midsection

He introduce you to the nose on the Glock fam
Give you metal jackets like clothes from a band
Multiple holes, you get on your top, man
High dose some hoes on the cock plan

but never coldly rolls with a hot hand
We stackin' cheese till the bands pop scrams
And I ain't when I'm in the pop stance
Bank pounds James Brown give 'em Hot Pants

I your girl get down and open it up
Put my dick up in jaws and go in they butt
I'm a young hot flame, they call me Sweet James
Or me Sir Jones, two hundred dollar cologne

Board Nine or Issey
I got girl mine, meat strong like saki
I ain't Rocky but I keep her
around, I'll knock your tuna fish out of socket

Your bitch out of pocket, she under
She reckless eyeballin' my top fall in
On my Lamborghini with the scream
Fettucini, linguine, and a bowl of lean

you know about gettin' cross country?
Nigga, your piece big but your look monkey
You need to take that back
That no Emmy diamonds what the fuck you done to that

Bitch, what the fuck you to that?
Now, damn, somebody need to beat Jacob ass over