Luyện nghe bài hát The Truth Is Back

You hear a lot of but it's boring
You hear a lot of flows but don't 'em
You hear a lot of albums and you
But the truth is back, now they say you been

'Cause we really seen you out performing
You back up in the streets, you're hot, boiling
click is the click they wanting
You know that OG Ron C gon' screw it for

A lot of DJ's didn't mess with the kid
But like dancers that love to strip, they up on my dick
And of course, maybe it's because of the fact that I'm
And the diamonds up on my wrist look like a of piss

Looked like they pissed in a ice cube
Put it in the so by the next day
They could put it on my wrist so I could display
Yellow ice looks like butter but it parquet

Hey, well, let me tell you how I did it
Stepped up the mix tapes and put 'em in city man
Send 'em Greyhound, in other city and
Wallet the size of Guerilla Black's or hand, baby, baby

And I got plenty mo' to do, dog that's true,
is the click, if that's what you thought
Yellow, green, red white and my new jaw
Check out the paint, same cover my new car

When it come to fed, I'm the baker with the bread
Know exactly what said, voices ain't just in my head
Get up in the streets so the rumors can be dead
'Cause I'm the rapper that they dread, Lil' Wayne's head

Bumba watch, now watch me, I'm the one to watch
One with a lot of colored cubes and a of blocks
And the and them girls that be coming out
The closet with a friend, meet her I wanna watch

on the way that's who saving the day
After the math I a rhyme, rapping after you pay
Niggaz say they songs jamming, yeah just what they say
Like Part 2 of that Kelly song, they end up gay

But it ain't Weezy, it even B.G
Because how I push the cash money, they don't believe me
on the DVD and the CD
Don't me, homeboy, watch TV

Head rest, 7.5
You trying to see me shine, you could carry on
hate and that's the reason that I carry one
Make a home run and run home, Barry Bonds

Yeah, I got 'em in a towel
Ron Artest of rap, at me now
Single handedly, handle the suckers up in the
Fist to your lip get whipped, while they kicking me out

'cause that looked like it hurt
And the worst part it, is it looks like the dirt
Getting acquainted with your shirt become one the turf
As I watch you fall down and you just what you worth

You no good, rotten scoundrel
I these hoes, like promoters out of town do
I get mail, workers in the color brown do
Chamillion the best, can't nobody out sound you

Chad to Pharrell, I'm the star on the track
at my diamonds and see how many broads they attract
And it's in the studio, they on my balls and my sack
Say it's a hit, before even start on a track

I pull up in slow motion, like my car on a
Trunk going up, directions that you saw on a map
I wear the multi-colors now but part of the fact
That I stay throwing up the rocks, like the was back

the Roc, psyche nigga it's not
But it's prolly a rock sized bullet, up in pop
mayn, I forgot, to put the heater on lock
But didn't forget the underground, it up for my spot
I'm and I'm too hot

You hear a lot of music but it's
You a lot of flows but don't enjoy 'em
You hear a lot of and you snoring
But the is back, now they say where you been

'Cause we ain't really you out performing
You back up in the streets, you hot, boiling
Chamillitary click is the click they
You know that OG Ron C screw it for them