Luyện nghe bài hát Hustlers

Dre, he a O.G
Nas, he a QB-QB G
Do the

Way before The Firm, like in the day
Nas was the first New York nigga with Dre
So of I got a track to bring it back to your face
The one kid that would've Aftermath that got away
But we get together like every several years
To sprinkle, a bit of Heaven for your ears
sippin' Cliquot in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, G's, but it's still Gucci luggage
I love Cape Cod, and fly bitches with grey eyes
in a tub of KY to get my day by
I to celebrate, why? - cause I can vision
Collages and images of my lies with no regret to
So every breath I take, is all the rules
It's hard for you to breathe like you at high
So crack the Patron, on heathens, The God's back
Hard body, Mr. Jones leaving

Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
Make that cake, cop two fivers
Pimps and players, platinum
to West Coast we riders
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
Make cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, diamonds
East to West we riders

He a O.G
(Mix that a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A of some different ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) Coast gunshots
He a O.G
(Mix with a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast

1995, years from the day
I'm in the record shop with choices to
"Illmatic" on the top shelf, "The Chronic" on the left
Wanna cop both but got a twenty on me
So fuck it, I stole both, spent the on a dub sack
Ripped the package off "Illmatic" and that
For my niggas it was too when Nas rhymed
I was the only nigga with a "New York State of Mind"
Inside the house bottlin' up sherm, bangin' The Firm
Dre was king then so I waited my
Fast forward, now I'm 'em burn
my peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard lesson was learned"
So I reconciled my differences like he did with
I stopped beefin' with niggas, I'm "Ether" to niggas
Comb the earth 'til no one left
"If I Ruled the World" I summons all you weak rap to death

He a O.G
(Mix with a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast

Yo, the sportin'
Come off the dice game with a fortune walking, you a coffin'
The musket I tucked it, you it I bust it
sideways talking, so I lay often
I wait patient, to duct tape
Fuck ass niggas, get ass niggas
Pluck ashes - of Cuban cigars, you with Nas
That's my name and I with Rugers this time
And if I'm sane that "Soul Plane" movie's the
Word to my mom's name to my arm
You can't revolve me, me, calm me or harm me
Rob me or dodge bullets I'm busting
See malarky you yappin'
I open up the tripod to put the on, and I start clapping
man, from bagging grams and running from cops
To a mill' on the hand, a mill' on the watch, I'm fucking Doc

Hustlers, dealers, riders
Make that cake, cop two fivers
Pimps and players, platinum
to West Coast we ridin'
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
Make that cake, cop two fivers
and players, platinum diamonds
East to West we ridin'