Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever I woke up this morning, I've been on
Twist the cap up off my weed jar, and a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, like Steve
I'm the streets of California where we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and
and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment
Packin' and totin' and the lean oh what a feelin'
He's a fraudulent, I'm
He a simp, he a sap, he
I'm a boss, I'm a factor, I'm a percent
I'm a hustler Larry Flynt
Getting money's my habit, I stay in the
Papered up like a tablet, my bankroll is
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a
I ball like a hooper man, up like a printer
I ain't too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
Mental health, argue my conscience cursin' out myself
My got a psychologist, neurologist too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

Act you know
Dippin' and and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the to the evening
Trying to get my paper right, my
it to the ceiling

Act you know
Dippin' and bobbin' and
In and out of traffic, from the morning to the
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

and blowing on some good bud
Smokin' on a you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You my weed on my rug
That's twenty pushups, that's a foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
Aliens around me, that's a
They'll try to sneak me and turn my brains adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe E-40 with his .45
I'm ADHD, something to calm my nerves
You to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting smellin' like herb
I plastered, but I'm all about my paper
Liquor aroma, that's me in the
More whips than Auto Trader, what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My bite is than my bark
you thought, heart
Bitch you full of shit like a dog
Mark ass poodle, as a cubicle
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a real one's
While these sideline be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their lizznips like bitches, man they saps
be running their mouth like that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a gets smack-smacked
Shot in the naps,
put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't even bring 'em back (bitch)

Act you know
Dippin' and bobbin and
In and out of traffic, from the morning to the
Trying to get my paper right, my
it to the ceiling

Act you know
Dippin' and and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the morning to the
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

...to the