Luyện nghe bài hát Got Ur Self A...

Woke up mornin', (yeah)
You got a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got a gun

Yo, I'm livin' in this behind enemy lines so

I got mine, I hope you (got a gun)
You from the I hope you (got yo'self a gun)
You want beef? I hope ya (got a gun)
And I see you I'ma take what I want
So, you tried to front, hope ya (got a gun)
You real, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)

My, album had no famous guest appearances
The outcome: I'm crowned the best
Many years on this professional
Why you question who's better? The world is still mine
Tattoos real with "God's Son" across the
The boss of rap, you saw me in "Belly" with thoughts like
To take it back to Africa, I did it with
Me and were soldiers of the same struggle
You lames should huddle, team's shook
Y'all feel the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football
Throwin' from a barrel, shoulder pads apparel
But the Q.B. don't for no quarterback
Every word is like a sawed-off blast, y'all all soft
And I'm the hearse that came to haul y'all ass in
It's for the hood by the corner
try, many die, come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh

Yo, I'm the N the A to the
And If I wasn't, I been Escobar
You know the kid got his tooth fixed
Hair parted with a preciseness, Bravehearted for life
It's the return of the Golden Child, son of a blue's
So who are you playa? Y'all the true savior
that tropical, cups of that Vodka too
Papi chu', up, wake up in a hospital
up? Never, 'member I do this through righteous steps
You Judists I was gone, so in light of my death
Y'all been all happy-go-lucky, of sambos
me "God's Son", with my pants low
I don't die slow, put them rags up Petey Pablo
This is Nasdaq dough, in my Nascar with Nas flow
Flip the beat back, now all reppin'
Hit the sto', never let me go, get my whole collection, yo

It's, the, return of the Prince, the
This is real hardcore, Kid and Limp Bizkit's soft
Sip Cris', get chips, wrist gliss, I
Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter
With the top cut off, rich kids go and cop The
They don't about the blocks I'm on
And want to know where the kid go? Where he rest at?
Where he at and dress at?
Know he got dough, where does he live? Is he in the bridge?
Does he really how ill that he is?
Got all of y'all watchin' my moves, my and my jewels
Hop in my coupe, dodge interviews that
It's not only my jewels, ice anything, chains
Look at my tennis shoes, I that
Who am I? The back-twister,
Automatic leg-spreader, quicker
it gangsta wit' ya, uh

x2]