Luyện nghe bài hát Shot Down

Grr, arf! Arf!

Move on over, I told ya boy
I'm a G-Unit motherfuckin' boy
And when you gon' get it in brain
The gate's open and the dog's off the chain

I be that yung'n with that gun-ness, ya stop frontin'
I be that on the run, after I pop some'n
In the I read, death is of the tongue
And if you talk death enough death is gon' come
taught me how to flow, they shot him in the head
Randy ass was there, now he runnin'
Some say I'm gangsta, say I'm crazy
If you ask me I'll say I'm the hood made me
Now I can stunt 'til my ass broke like JD
Or put a hundred grand on e'ry head that play me
See I'm cool with them Haitian mob
say sak passe nap boule and rob niggas
The media be tryin' to make a nigga look bad, whats up that?
See my flick, next to Papi and Cat
And Montana, I kill 'em with the
I enhanced in the slammer after bangin them
X up? (aight!)

You don't live that, you shouldn't say
Cause what come out your mouth'll get you SHOT,
Throwin your money around and we don't play
Get in our get you SHOT, DOWN (nigga)
We know where you hang, we know you stay at
bullshit you on'll get you SHOT, DOWN
Here's a few clips you shouldn't play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders'll get you SHOT,

Aye yo, fuck y'all talkin' bout, think you playin' wit?
Double are, G-UNIT, the ol' shit (what!)
Put the fagots in the ring, watch 'em all
All y'all is pussy, suck my dick!
Ain't nothin'[ but a of man still standin'
I remember 50 in a cypher when was "Slammin" (aight?)
Now we again, it's all good my nigga
Back to the street again, it's all hood my
on wood my nigga, we both walk the dog
We ain't get to where we at by luck, shit was (aight?)
But once we got through the trials all smiles
'til a big type nigga all of a sudden get
Now why you gotsta go and take me back to where I came
I'ma make you remember, where you my name from (YYea!)
45th Street, and Ave.
I ran through your crew and only let off half, nigga!

Yeah, word,
If your ain't offa your shoulders (uh-huh)
You get shot, you got nicked nigga (just nicked)
Cause if my hit a piece of your bone
It's gon' do more than chip, nigga (a lot more that)
Yea, what the is the problem
The is red the buckets is Army
30 shot the gutter is starvin (yea)
Niggas like me might rush your (word)
fuck up your carpet, brain on the window
I smell murder time that the wind blow
Tie him to the chair and then out his chinbone
I don't want the throne or the crown, I ain't up
You can the jail or the ground, you ain't in hell enough
I'm the one that flood the
Better tap your man, and let him P'll love to cut his
And is gettin' shot down, two guns up
Double are, S.P. holdin' D down