Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up this morning, been on
the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, Steve Wynn
I'm from the streets of California where we be and grittin'
Gettin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', and stackin'
and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and and chillin' in front of the apartment building
Packin' and totin' and the lean oh what a feelin'
a fraudulent, I'm immaculate
He a simp, he a sap, he
I'm a boss, I'm a factor, I'm a hundred
I'm a hustler Larry Flynt
Getting my habit, I stay in the traffic
up like a tablet, my bankroll is massive
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm walk out a winner
I like a hooper man, papered up like a printer
I ain't wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm
Mental health, argue with my cursin' out myself
My psychologist got a psychologist, too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

Act like you
Dippin' and bobbin' and
In and out of traffic, from the to the evening
Trying to get my paper right, my
Stack it to the

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

Drinking and blowing on good bud
on a strain you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it my plugs
You my weed on my rug
twenty pushups, that's a party 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 E-40 with his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, need something to calm my
You libel to find me at my teacher's meeting smellin' like herb
I stay plastered, but I'm all my paper
aroma, that's me in the elevator
More than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My bite is than my bark
Thought you thought,
Bitch you full of shit like a dog
Mark ass poodle, square as a
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 some bitches, man they saps
be running their mouth like that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a bitch smack-smacked
Shot in the naps,
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't even bring 'em (bitch)

Act like you
and bobbin and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the to the evening
Trying to get my paper right, my
Stack it to the

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

...to the