Luyện nghe bài hát U Got Shot

U got shot, 'cause you knock, knock,
Who's there? Another motherfuckin'
ho hoh, let me like slow up with the flow
Introducing, yo, that nigga's name

If you step to my motherfuckin' rep
Chk chk, blaow, blaow, blaow, traject
Gimme my shit, chk-chk, blaow
U got shot, 'cause you knock, knock,

On my knees at the of God
Straight up up I keeps it hard
You like to
But can't touch nigga or catch a charge

Papichulo with karate chops just like
Fuckin' coolo you quit rap and go sing with Menudo
Underground's where we live and that's where be when you leave
Overachieve, I'd rather be rockin' Creed

to speak up, fagot niggaz droppin' these weak cuts
We're the B-boys, hows about hardcore in the speakers
For the Mic Dons, callin' like
PMD shinin' my stripes on

In the saddle, fuck around, get your rattled
No paddles up creek when time to battle
Same place, same bad time, so a bat channel
This nigga, of game, get your pockets bigger
Biggie, Pac and Eaze, one love, still my fuckin' niggaz

We don't no gat, just cock me fuckin' back
And watch me spitfire my volerical
a sign of a miracle that, my iron spittin'
Ain't peelin' your cap, me and the Devil had a spiritual
I'm eviler with lyrical rap
Than a cat, on a black night and I'm black

In the moonshinin', I'm Starsky and Hutch
While my rims blindin', while P the Dutch
'Cause I'm too much for ma's and grandpa's to
Roll the windows to cars, when out at large
Who the fuck's in charge? Charles Sauls
I got his mom suckin' my like a fresh pack of halls

Right to Allah, I'm the roughest of the raw
Nobody's seen what they seen and never saw
When I jump in my car, go "Ooh and ahh"
EPMD, 215 and 8-Off

Yo, 215, who the fuck was them cats up in the
One of them got a gat, the other one wanna
out the car, pop a trunk, swingin' crowbars
Stick up my seeds in my for the G's
People low self-esteem the gleam, hotter than steam

When I blow off the top, I got this cream Bill Rothstein
And I rob unique excitement is, why you scream
So put hands together, get your mans together
the plan together, here's the gun together, let's run together

Soldier mind crime nigga, bitch-down nigga
8-Off's hit 'em like, five niggaz, surprise niggaz

Aiyyo, you hit 'em like
I bust 'em from the to the extreme
Hit 'em up, make 'em like a bitch
And switch up for the mix up and dig a up
And bounce, then for luck, I a six up

And hook off like Prince ahead
Duck yo' head or go inside
Step to me bourgeoisie? Fancy as
You get killed, like you was Jon-Bennet

And some of y'all plain civilians
Talkin' shit and never even a million
Actin' like y'all Sicilians, when y'all
small figures and chasin' gold diggers

Don't come up to me yappin'
Or Die Hard with Bruce and Sam Jackson
now, you wanna duel, you fool
I'm a Dogg 4 like my nigga Ja Rule

Who wanna flex with the
mad credentials on instrumentals we're too essential
The mic and the beat, now complete
For me to kick your ass for talkin' trash,

U got shot, you knock, knock, knocked
Who's Another motherfuckin' hardrock
Whoa ho hoh, let me slow up with the flow
Introducing, yo, that nigga's name

If you wanna to my motherfuckin' rep
Chk, chk, blaow, blaow, blaow, blown
my fuckin' shit, chk, chk, blaow
U got shot you knock, knock, knocked