Luyện nghe bài hát Artillery

Artillery motherfucker, legit balling bitch but don't get it
Ain't no hoes over
Yeah, we got guns nigga, aimed at all you hating

K-Town to the Manor, Holy City to the wild hundreds
The war is on, and all my is riding
Todd Nitty, you got for these hoes
(Click, clock, blast)

I got that 9 M glock, with the infrared beam dot
Aiming at your knot, making heart stop
Yelling out, "Fuck tha po", who some it 5-0
Better look out for when they pull that door

but gangstas, that's all who I hang with
Slanging them thangs with, came up in the game
The fucking hood rats, them some broke hoes
Me get a rich bitch and her for her dough

The Manor in K-Town, that's how we put it down
off fifty rounds, that's how our shit sound
Artillery up the ass, sullies and ski
9's and masks, gunning at your ass

street thugs, legit ballers
Money and the power, moving flour
Taking no shorts and no losses
niggas asses off in coffins with that

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga

A nigga with stealers, hustlers, killers all my life
Legit Ballers bitch, don't even try to fuck us gangsta's
we some mobstas
You with that bullshit, then pussy I'll pop ya'

See that nigga Todd Nitty
be squeezing triggers like bitches titties
Who is it, the most left on
They crept on nigga, with Teflon nigga

And it went blow blow, body bag bitch
Sent his ass to the morgue with the of them snitches
I 'em up like a motherfucking Newport
Left his ass with more holes a golf course

What you thought boy, I'm that 9th Ward
Where them stories are true about Manor boys
How we 'em, bleedin' and crawling on the ground
he's a dead nigga now

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga

I got that love for my Twist, for aid and assistance
He told me holsters, caught him up in bullshit
Don't even trips though, I'm heading in route
Soon as I up, we puttin' they lights out

Poppin' a clip in, with one in the
Finna' ride on a stranger, put the hoes in danger
Started letting off hollows, straight they car door
I'm a G from Chicago, pull the game weightless I go

Bustin' pistols with laser
Putting holes in they
Going straight through your tailored
Now it's you or neighbor next

Now we got boy tied up, to the hideout we ride up
They gonna show us the stash-pot, with the little handles up
the money and lello, and that's how the day goes

Get the bankroll, gank hoes, and I got the 44.
Time to finna' go
Hit 'em that

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump