Luyện nghe bài hát Got Ur Self A...

Woke up mornin', (yeah)
You got a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got a gun

Yo, I'm livin' in this time behind enemy so

I got mine, I hope you (got a gun)
You from the I hope you (got yo'self a gun)
You want beef? I hope ya (got a gun)
And when I see you take what I want
So, you tried to front, ya (got yo'self a gun)
You ain't real, hope ya (got a gun)

My, first album had no guest appearances
The I'm crowned the best lyricist
Many years on this professional
Why you question who's better? The world is still mine
real with "God's Son" across the belly
The boss of rap, you saw me in "Belly" with thoughts like
To it back to Africa, I did it with Biggie
Me and Tupac were soldiers of the same
You lames should huddle, your shook
feel the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football field
Throwin' passes from a barrel, shoulder pads
But the Q.B. don't stand for no
Every is like a sawed-off blast, 'cause y'all all soft
And I'm the black hearse came to haul y'all ass in
It's for the by the corner store
Many try, many die, at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh

Yo, I'm the N the A to the
And If I wasn't, I been Escobar
You the kid got his chipped tooth fixed
Hair parted with a preciseness, Bravehearted for life
It's the of the Golden Child, son of a blue's player
So who are you playa? awaited the true savior
Puffin' that tropical, cups of Vodka too
Papi chu', up, wake up in a hospital
Throw up? Never, I do this through righteous steps
You Judists thought I was gone, so in of my death
Y'all been all happy-go-lucky, of sambos
Call me "God's Son", with my low
I don't die slow, put rags up like Petey Pablo
This is dough, in my Nascar with this Nas flow
Flip the back, now it's all reppin'
Hit the sto', never let me go, get my whole collection, yo

It's, the, of the Prince, the boss
This is real hardcore, Kid and Limp Bizkit's soft
Sip Cris', get chips, gliss, I floss
Stick shift, sick up in that Boxter Porsche
With the top cut off, kids go and cop The Source
don't know about the blocks I'm on
And everybody want to where the kid go? Where he rest at?
he shop at and dress at?
Know he got dough, where does he live? Is he still in the
Does he really know how ill he is?
Got all of watchin' my moves, my watch and my jewels
Hop in my coupe, dodge interviews like
It's not only my jewels, ice anything, plenty
at my tennis shoes, I iced that
Who am I? The back-twister,
Automatic leg-spreader, quicker
it gangsta wit' ya, uh

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