Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever I woke up this morning, I've been on
the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a cone
Took a and got gone in the wind, like Steve Wynn
I'm from the of California where we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' that women, 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'
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 like Larry Flynt
Getting money's my habit, I stay in the
Papered up a tablet, my bankroll 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 ain't 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 you know
and bobbin' 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 to the evening
Trying to get my paper right, my
it to the ceiling

Drinking and blowing on some bud
Smokin' on a you never heard of
shit, I got it from my plugs
You my weed on my rug
That's twenty pushups, a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
around me, that's a no-no
They'll try to sneak me and turn my 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 plastered, but I'm all about my paper
Liquor aroma, that's me in the
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 shit a dog park
Mark ass poodle, square as a
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a real one's
While these sideline be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their lizznips like bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running their mouth like that, we 'em quack-quacks
That's how a bitch smack-smacked
Shot in the naps,
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't bring 'em back (bitch)

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

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

...to the