Luyện nghe bài hát Broccoli

Let's get wid it, baby
Sick wid it, baby,
get sick wid it, baby
Said, I'm gonna get so wid it, yeah
Said I'm gonna get

I need no doctor, I don't need no shrink
All I need is broccoli and a 40-oz to
Smokin' broccoli now, takes me out
Smokin' broccoli now, takes me out

I was bullshittin'
Bitch tried to hit me upside the head with her
talin' 'bout, "Who the you been doin' it to?
Comin' always smellin' like tuna fish and brew"

I said "Bitch, if you don't get up outta my face
I'ma slap you real
And I can rest assure you
That it ain't gon' be no sight"

24-7 3 fin
I pull out my and spell my name in my piss
Shoot the fool, let's play for pink slips, whatchu slammin'
there shit across the street? That ugly ass gremlin'

Buy sticky, you got the pillow
Here go some Black 'n' Mild style, split it down the
What's that? That Oakland Nah it's that white widow
I was about to say they'd botha have your ass
Up in the hospital, it out

I don't need no doctor, I need no shrink
All I need is broccoli and a to drink
that broccoli now, takes me out
Smokin' that broccoli now, me out
Smell me on this one, it out

Hit up for five and hold it for ten, I'm lung
Let's see who got the most wind, get 'em
Make 'em wanna come back and spend, bomb
juice and Seagram's Gin

Fuck all of that Cristal-poppin', Moet shit, I'm from the block
Wheaties, Thunderbird, milk and Aftershock
Boom square wide country?, Wild Rose
Smugglin' Hennessey and scotch, and Tequila shots

forty ounces was how I first got my figure
Then I graduated to malt liquor
So hah, let me a swig of that Crown Royal
What you puttin' on that blunt huh? oil

My Panamanian saha from south San
On some farm down in San Luis Obisbo
Wake yo' ass up Hustle, wake yo' ass up, why you asleep?
'Cause, nigga that shit got my twaskin' my life nigga,

that broccoli now, takes me out
Smokin' that broccoli now, me out
I don't no doctor, I don't need no shrink
All I need is broccoli and a 40-oz to

Seein' two's and
Highly intoxicated I'm slidin' on a brim
Set of Z's and V's, spit Range Pimpin'
L-R P sophisticated wannabe's, up H O E's
back-polluted pussy hoochie mamas, ooh ooh

Give a damn, make 2 8 9, think I had a V8
Highly carburetor, engine scram
Get gas, go in sideways, figured up like a
Ready, get that motherfucker hop up

Everybody got the munchies and they tryin' ta miss
We ride around the corner, nigga, there go Smith
Webulation Bust a U-ey folker, oh as I'm out
Damn that's my beeper, I got at the house

The rules and regulations of the up in the yay
Just a bitch, silly if she gets off in my way
She's to all the brothers, forgive me grandma yay
Three or four bitches, five or six different times a day

I don't need no doctor, I need no shrink
All I is broccoli and a 40-oz to drink
Smokin' broccoli now, takes me out
Smokin' that broccoli now, me out

Let's get wid it, baby
Let's get sick wid it,