Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up this morning, been on
Twist the cap up off my jar, and smoked a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, Steve Wynn
I'm from the streets of California we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a trying to hit a million
Perkin' and and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment building
Packin' and and toast the lean oh what a feelin'
He's a fraudulent, I'm
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 my habit, I stay in the traffic
Papered up like a tablet, my is massive
If I walked in a loser, I'm gonna walk out a winner
I ball like a man, papered up like a printer
I ain't wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm
Mental health, argue with my conscience cursin' out
My psychologist got a psychologist, too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

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

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

Drinking and blowing on some bud
on a strain you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it my plugs
You my weed on my rug
That's twenty pushups, a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I don't (who?)
Aliens around me, that's a
They'll try to sneak me and turn my into adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best E-40 with his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, need something to calm my
You libel to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting like herb
I stay plastered, but I'm all my paper
Liquor aroma, that's me in the
More whips than Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My bite is stronger than my
you thought, heart
Bitch you of shit like a dog park
ass poodle, square as a cubicle
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a real business?
While these sideline niggas be always trying to a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their like some bitches, man they saps
be running their mouth like that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a bitch smack-smacked
Shot in the naps,
Head put on flap, can't even bring 'em back (bitch)

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

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

...to the