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 been that got away
But we still get together every several years
To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for your
Relax sippin' in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, G's, but it's still Gucci luggage
I love Cod, and watching fly bitches with grey eyes
in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate, why? - 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, it's on heathens, The back
Hard body, Mr. never leaving

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

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

1995, years from the day
I'm in the record with choices to make
"Illmatic" on the top shelf, "The Chronic" on the homie
Wanna cop both but got a twenty on me
So fuck it, I both, spent the twenty on a dub sack
Ripped the package off "Illmatic" and that
For my it was too complex when Nas rhymed
I was the only Compton nigga with a "New York of Mind"
Inside the dope house up sherm, bangin' The Firm
Dre was then so I waited my turn
Fast forward, now I'm makin 'em
Ended my peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard was learned"
So I reconciled my differences like he did with
I stopped beefin' with niggas, cause I'm "Ether" to
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 that a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different blocks
(West kill the tracks) East Coast gunshots

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

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