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 weed jar, and a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, like Steve
I'm from the streets of where we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', and stackin'
and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in 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 like Flynt
money's my habit, I stay in the traffic
Papered up like a tablet, my is massive
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm walk out a winner
I ball like a hooper man, papered up a printer
I ain't too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
Mental health, argue with my conscience out myself
My psychologist got a psychologist, too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

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

Act you know
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 some bud
Smokin' on a you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You drop my on my rug
That's twenty pushups, that's a foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
Aliens me, that's a no-no
try to sneak me and turn my brains into adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe with his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, need to calm my nerves
You libel to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting smellin' herb
I stay plastered, but I'm all about my
Liquor aroma, me in the elevator
More than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, like a car lot
My bite is stronger 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 sideline niggas be always trying to count a chizznips
their lizznips like some bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running 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 and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the to the evening
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
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

...to the