Luyện nghe bài hát It's Good

I'm as real as they come, I the rules
I'm in the hood but I probably should move
Made enough money, I f-ck around
I just felt needed me, so I stuck around
Feds got my man, shit is son
Cause my god son just became my son
Think is a game but all you get is a turn
You live and you learn, either you or you burn
Kush in the air, I'm the gears
turned into hate, hate turned into fear
If it aint right, I don't the deal
me in the watch, I got time to kill
Gasoline, propane, no salary cap in the dope game
Aint no bargaining on cocaine
So in other words nigga, do thing

Mind in one place, in another
Please pardon my
He's angry at you niggas who dont have your heart in your rap shit
And got too f-ckin comfy, cause we still hungry
Money, got the munchies
Faded, f-ckin faded, aww im f-ckin faded
They tellin' lies about me, aww yeah i made it
Rikers Island on flow, 8 months for that pistol
But at least they had some bad bitches workin' in that hole
Ahhh, 3 later, I went and did it major
So the judge, and the jury, and the litigator
Watchin all these kids who thought they had it out
And then November came, they let my out

Wayne]
Stop playin, I aint with bullshit
Niggas act bitches. Shanaynay, oh my goodness
is Wayne's World, and y'all are just some tourists
Give me wishes, I wish, I wish, I wish, you would bitch
Brand new p-ssy, p-ssy as baby powder
Two glock 40s, you got 80 problems
Swimmin' in the money, Imma need some goggles
Its better to give, but we give a f-ck about 'em
I just came home, shit then got hoe
Lil Weezy-ana, the boot nigga, toe
I workin with a full deck but I deal hoe
I just touched down, kick the motherf-ckin goal
Talkin 'bout baby money? I got your baby
Kidnap your bitch, get that 'how much you love your money
I know you fake nigga, press brakes nigga
I'll you out, that's a date nigga
Im a grown ass blood, stop playin me
Play and get an ass whippin'
I you pussy cat ha, hello kitty
I throw the alley-oop to Drake Griffin
I lay em down,
This shits a of chess, you niggas think its cleavage
Its young money, 'tis the season
I give you the business, this a business meeting
My hungry, my bitches greedy
I die a bloody murder? Dear Mr. Ouija
Nigga, Im straight, my girl a
on the barrel, pop pop tater salad