Luyện nghe bài hát 187 On 24th Street - Brotha Lynch Hung

x2]
There was a 187 on 24th
There was a 187 on Street
Did you know there was a 187 on Street
See you can get yo mind tore up fuckin wit us, we let bust

[Brother
21st Street, 24th and Florinreau to Metiview just to say a few
Every night I used to walk the street drunk with a bottle and my strap
Cuz block niggas don't sock they shoot niggas in the back
you ain't lookin, yo livin get tooken, run up in yo living room
With choppers tryin to out yo poppers, it's a fucked up interlude
I was only 17 a dream in a scheme
the gangsters took me under, no wonder
It of been a gang bang thang and the slang caine game
Gotta maintain range on you roaches like dirty
I may leave you in the game even if you broke
Cuz I don't give a fuck I put the in the slot
And play the game I see what I got, I let straps pop
If I got to cuz the streets is hot too so I pop
unsderstood em couldn't understand em and I'm not too
Down for half them so I ran it the way I had to
Met him in the after dark
And it took less than for the 9 to spark the park

x2]

[Brother
See drastic, put yo body all up in plastic
We drag shit to the and deliver yo ass quick
We always bad kids didn't even like eachother much
All we did was mean mug and put 9 on the clutch
Niggas could get touched, we touchin em up like Gerry
girl was trippin we ripped em to the levy wit him
Said he earl Earl the Pearl don't miss to often in a coffin
Yeah your new world, we keep it poppin
Automatics be knockin Block beats
Cuz we the hardest on the streets
Jig like rock on the streets
We ridin yo shit, and we lovin you for it
You ignore it it's that rip shit
That put you in the trunk half with yo wig split shit
Live that everyday, all day, every chance we get
And in the we got pits that eat raw meat in tid bits
They just as Sicc I don't a fuck put the quarter in the slot
And play the game until I see what I got, I let pop

x2]

[Brother
Come against me I look in yo face and I don't see nothin but
And even though you say you love me I'm still clinchin the
That's how it goes in state where blue rags murder blue rags
And who get body bagged in Mazarati bags zipped with toe tags
so bad, see I don't know who to trust
Last time I trusted a nigga he came out some stuff
He was talkin about me, nigga and I didn't know what to do
So I keep that heat that'll eat like Cujo and fold up ya crew
Like new clothes, I choose niggas that carry 4-4's and do those
that'll put somethin cold up in yo toes
Ya whole body froze no you think I should kick it wit
I do it and that's it ... you trip