Luyện nghe bài hát Whoa

My niggaz, pull triggers, stack figures, whoa whoa
niggaz, broke niggaz, not my niggaz, no no no
In the club we sippin' dom p, lovely, oh, whoa whoa
Sexy ladies goin' crazy 'cause the like, whoa whoa whoa

Fresh out The building
To Bentley Coupes with the convertible
It's the widow, call me Miss White
I done through it all, shootouts and fistfights
Crooklyn bitch, you go wrong I get
Back a classic, now gimme six mics
reach me on the phone, then send a bitch a kite
Man, I do's it in or a pair of crisp Nikes

behind Martin Luther King, but I'm more like Malcolm X
Guerillas on they chest, get it right on Malcolm X
keep the peace 'cause if cowards show me disrespect
My niggaz put his soul to rest and I don't wanna see you
Champagne at my campaign, Kim for
Told you I'm the same from the escalator
And I ain't trippin' off you and investigators
Get your envelopes, to address the haters

My niggaz, pull triggers, figures, whoa whoa whoa
niggaz, broke niggaz, not my niggaz, no no no
In the club we sippin' dom p, sittin' lovely, oh, whoa
Sexy goin' crazy 'cause the beat's like, whoa whoa whoa

Me and my team, we to own casinos
So we can all cop dreams Pacino's
Come through in the oh-six
The feds tryin' to shut us like Nino
We keep it goin', man, we it goin', man
Won't stop, can't gotta it goin', man
See I do it for the fans, they'll understand
While they off course, me I'm stickin' to the plan

Feel the movement, a whole new crew
Junior M.A.F.I.A., that chapter is through
Them faggots done did somethin' that they undo
Whoever ridin' with 'em can get one too
copped out to a one to three do
Still took it to trial, though I blew
Crooklyn style, how we do it
I'll gangsters and ain't got to it

My niggaz, triggers, stack figures, whoa whoa whoa
Snitch niggaz, niggaz, not my niggaz, no no no
In the club we dom p, sittin' lovely, oh, whoa whoa
Sexy ladies goin' crazy 'cause the beat's like, whoa whoa

Now a party ain't a party 'til the Queen through
You know where I go, man, the team too
Pull up in the or the V-1-2
Lil' Kim's that girl, got her own shoe
In the club with my clique though, glass of Cristal
In the jail jumpsuit, still a bad though
from the ghetto it was hard from the get go
Then I the hood the world ain't just made for rich folk
Get'cha dance up, BK stand up
to the dance floor, everybody hands up
Throw it up, get down, hold your pants up
Ladies throw it right back, tell nigga man up

My niggaz, triggers, stack figures, whoa whoa whoa
niggaz, broke niggaz, not my niggaz, no no no
In the club we sippin' dom p, sittin' lovely, oh, whoa
Sexy goin' crazy 'cause the beat's like, whoa whoa whoa