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

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

Lynch]
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
While you lookin, yo livin get tooken, run up in yo living room
choppers tryin to take out yo poppers, it's a fucked up interlude
I was only 17 with a dream in a
Apparently the gangsters took me under, no
It must of been a gang bang and the slang caine game
maintain range on you roaches like dirty poachers
I may leave you in the even if you broke shit
Cuz I don't give a fuck I put the in the slot
And play the game until I see I got, I let straps pop
If I got to cuz the is hot too so I pop fools
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 park dark
And it less than seconds for the 9 to spark the park

x2]

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

x2]

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