Luyện nghe bài hát Threat

Yo once a pimp gets
That's right, that's the, the that's, that's threats
And I'm serious mine, I'm so sincere
And I, nigga I'll kill ya, chop ya up
Put ya inside the like drug money nigga

Yeah, I done told you
9 or 10 times fucking with me
I done you niggas
9 albums, stop fucking me
I done told you
The 9 on me, fucking with me
You niggas must got 9
9th

Put that knife in ya, a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightening ya? I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a
I let it hum to ya, the one sing along
Now it's a duet, and you wet, you check out
The technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two
To blow this like a trumpet you dumb
This is a musical I conducting
You looking at the black Warren Buffett so all can duck sic
I don't if you C. Delores Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you ryling me up
For years, they had me peeing out of a cup
Now they bout to free me up, what you think I'm be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I still feel
I'm young black and rich so they to strip me naked, but
You had me like Christina Aguiler-why
But catch me down the Westside, like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the of my car
Screaming out the sunroof death to
You can't kill me, I live forever through these
I put the wolves on ya, I put a on your head
The whole hood'll want ya, you starting to look bread
I send them boys at ya, I talking bout Feds
Nigga body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the
Put your on the side of your garment
Nigga fuckin with me
R.I.P.

That's right there nigga, I'm wild
Nigga I keep trash with me
Never know when you gotta dump a out
This sincere, some sincere shit right here!

Grown man I put on you
I dig a hole in the desert, they build The on you
Lay out plans on you
We Rat niggas, let Sam tap dance on you
Then, I Sinatra ya God damn you
I put the boy in the box David Blaine
Let the audience watch, it ain't a
Y'all I was fronting, I George Bush the button
Front of all you in your car lift up your hood run it
Then lift up your hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods don't want nothing of it
Like, oil, I Castor Troy you
Change your face or the change all that for you
Y'all is targets
Y'all garages for bullets, please make me park it
In your level, valet a couple strays
the 38 special, nigga, God bless you

Yeah I'm ya, YEAH I'm threatening ya!
Who you thank you dealing
They call me Chris, I been making threats
Since I been in nigga!
Huh, ask about me, see if you heard

the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you dies
Like held by the Jet L-I
I'm the one, meaning no one must try
No two, no three, no four, why?
Because one's four-five might blow yo'
You ain't go to church to get to know yo' God
a match made in heaven when I 'splay the 7
Put you on the news, UPN at 11
you been, you ain't heard, got the word that I'm
That I'm so
I'm Joe Pesci with a grin
I will you, commit suicide, and kill you again
right