Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up this morning, I've on
Twist the cap up off my jar, and smoked a cone
a shower and got gone in the wind, like Steve Wynn
I'm from the of California where we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and
Wheelin' and dealin' and a killin' trying to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment
Packin' and totin' and toast the 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 money's my habit, I stay in the
Papered up like a tablet, my bankroll is
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a
I ball like a hooper man, up like a printer
I ain't too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
Mental health, argue my conscience cursin' out myself
My got a psychologist, neurologist too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

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

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

Drinking and blowing on good bud
Smokin' on a strain you heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You drop my on my rug
That's twenty pushups, a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I don't (who?)
Aliens me, that's a no-no
They'll try to sneak me and turn my brains into
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe E-40 his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, need something to calm my
You to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting smellin' like herb
I stay plastered, but I'm all my paper
aroma, that's me in the elevator
More whips Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My bite is than my bark
you thought, heart
Bitch you full of like a dog park
Mark ass poodle, as a cubicle
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a one's business?
While these niggas be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their lizznips like some bitches, man saps
be running their mouth like that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a bitch gets
Shot in the naps,
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't bring 'em back (bitch)

Act like you
Dippin' and and weavin'
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
Trying to get my right, my nigga
it to the ceiling

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

...to the