Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up morning, I've been on
Twist the cap up off my weed jar, and a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, Steve Wynn
I'm from the streets of California where we be hustlin and
that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a
Perkin' and and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment building
Packin' and totin' and toast the lean oh 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 percent
I'm a hustler Larry Flynt
Getting money's my habit, I in the traffic
Papered up like a tablet, my is massive
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a
I ball a hooper man, papered up like a printer
I wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
health, argue with my conscience cursin' out myself
My psychologist got a psychologist, too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

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

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

Drinking and on some good bud
on a strain you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You my weed on my rug
That's twenty pushups, a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
Aliens around me, that's a
They'll try to sneak me and my brains into adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe E-40 with his .45
I'm ADHD, need to calm my nerves
You libel to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting like herb
I stay plastered, but I'm all about my
Liquor aroma, that's me in the
whips than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, like a car lot
My bite is stronger my bark
you thought, heart
Bitch you of shit like a dog park
Mark ass poodle, square as a
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a one's business?
While these sideline niggas be always to count a hustler's chizznips
their lizznips like some bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running their mouth like that, we call 'em
That's how a bitch smack-smacked
in the naps, clapped
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't bring 'em back (bitch)

Act you know
Dippin' and bobbin and
In and out of traffic, from the to the evening
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

Act you know
Dippin' and bobbin and
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
Trying to get my paper right, my
it to the ceiling

...to the