Luyện nghe bài hát Artillery

Artillery motherfucker, legit balling bitch but don't get it
Ain't no hoes over
Yeah, we got guns nigga, at all you hating bitches

From K-Town to the Manor, Holy City to the hundreds
The war is on, and all my is riding
Todd Nitty, what you got for these
(Click, clock, blast)

I got that 9 double M glock, with the beam dot
Aiming at knot, making your heart stop
Yelling out, "Fuck tha po", who some it 5-0
Better look out for when they that kick door

Nothing but gangstas, all who I hang with
Slanging them thangs with, came up in the with
The fucking rats, because them some broke hoes
Me get a rich and stick her for her dough

The Manor in K-Town, that's how we put it down
Letting off rounds, that's how our shit sound
Artillery up the ass, sullies and ski
9's and bubble masks, at your ass

street thugs, legit ballers
Money and the power, moving flour
Taking no and taking no losses
Hauling asses off in coffins with that

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga

A nigga with stealers, hustlers, killers all my life
Legit Ballers bitch, don't try to fuck with us gangsta's
Because we some
You come with that bullshit, then I'll pop ya'

See it's nigga Todd Nitty
be squeezing triggers like bitches titties
Who is it, the most left on
crept on nigga, with that Teflon nigga

And it went blow blow, body bag that
Sent his ass to the morgue with the rest of snitches
I 'em up like a motherfucking Newport
Left his ass more holes than a golf course

What you thought boy, I'm from 9th Ward
Where stories are true about them Manor boys
How we leaving 'em, and crawling on the ground
Like he's a dead now

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga

I got that love for my Twist, for aid and assistance
He told me holsters, caught him up in some
Don't trips though, I'm heading in your route
Soon as I roll up, we puttin' lights out

Poppin' a clip in, one in the chamber
Finna' ride on a stranger, put the life in danger
Started letting off hollows, through they car door
I'm a G from Chicago, the game weightless where I go

Bustin' pistols with laser
Putting in they Avarex
Going straight through your tailored
Now it's you or your neighbor

Now we got your boy up, to the hideout we ride up
They gonna show us the stash-pot, with the little handles up
the money and lello, and that's how the day goes

Get the bankroll, gank hoes, and I got the 44.
Time to finna' go
Hit 'em with

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga