Luyện nghe bài hát Hustlers

Dre, he a O.G
Nas, he a QB-QB G
Do the

Way The Firm, like back in the day
Nas was the New York nigga rappin' with Dre
So of course I got a track to bring it back to your
The one kid that would've been that got away
But we still get together like several years
To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for ears
Relax sippin' in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, G's, but it's still Gucci luggage
I love Cod, and watching fly bitches with grey eyes
in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate, why? - I can vision
and images of my lies with no regret to hate
So every breath I take, is all the rules
It's hard for you to breathe like you at high
So crack the Patron, it's on heathens, The back
Hard body, Mr. Jones never

Hustlers, dealers, riders
Make that cake, cop two five
and players, platinum diamonds
East to West Coast we
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
Make that cake, cop two fivers
Pimps and players, platinum
East to Coast we riders

He a O.G
(Mix with a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East gunshots
He a O.G
(Mix that a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast

1995, years from the day
I'm in the record shop with to make
"Illmatic" on the top shelf, "The Chronic" on the left
Wanna cop both but only got a on me
So fuck it, I stole both, spent the on a dub sack
Ripped the package off "Illmatic" and bumped
For my it was too complex when Nas rhymed
I was the only nigga with a "New York State of Mind"
Inside the dope house up sherm, bangin' The Firm
Dre was then so I waited my turn
Fast forward, now I'm makin 'em
my peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard lesson was learned"
So I my differences like he did with Jigga
I stopped beefin' with niggas, cause I'm "Ether" to
the earth 'til there's no one left
"If I Ruled the World" I summons all you weak rap niggas to

He a O.G
(Mix that with a true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different ghetto
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast

Yo, the sportin'
Come off the dice game with a fortune walking, you a walking
The I tucked it, you bluff it I bust it
You're talking, so I lay often
I wait patient, to tape hatin'
Fuck ass niggas, get bucked ass
ashes - of Cuban cigars, you fooling with Nas
That's my name and I came with Rugers time
And if I'm that "Soul Plane" movie's the bomb
Word to my name tattooed to my arm
You revolve me, embalm me, calm me or harm me
Rob me or dodge these I'm busting
See malarky you yappin'
I open up the tripod to put the on, and I start clapping
Nasty man, from grams and running from cops
To a mill' on the hand, a mill' on the watch, I'm fucking Doc

Hustlers, dealers, riders
Make cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, diamonds
East to West we ridin'
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
Make that cake, cop two fivers
and players, platinum diamonds
East to Coast we ridin'