Luyện nghe bài hát 3 Strikes Ya' Out

Love me.. me love..
me love food..
Give me love, so I can.. kill..
Give me love, I can.. kill..
He's not real.. (the devil) and she die..
Die.. (he is the son of man, he is the son of God)
{*beat drowns out whispered

[king
Three strike you're out they're makin niggaz
No more slaps on the wrist 90 days
Welcome to the next level, the new world order
Snatch ya like a tractor, might ya for a quarter
I put that on my moms, that's on I love
what? catch a l, make you cry like a dove
So sucka free is the way for me
You don't get paid for bein o.g.
We've been had, been tricked, we've been played
Right when we, left, for what? we shoulda stayed
Stressed all the just to show they mean business
Rushed 'em with the quickness, killed 'em with the
to save his life, give him cpr, huh
Somethin for the lungs, fat african
So clear up your sinus and keep nose clean
so hot it makes the one-time stop

Three strikes, you're out, then a nigga
We in the cage, man is bein slayed
Three strikes, out, then a nigga pays
We in the cage, black man is slayed

tee]
Get the lyrical miracle whippin up
Gingerbread out you rookies, huh
I can't stands no more, grab the
Hit the deck when I let the tec (c'mon)
'nique, freak any nigga
106 (? ) street, uhh
The loco's, chocolate like
Get your punk-ass up in the trash (ahh!)
You stepped on my stars, say sorry
This wild style's lion country safari
This is for my loc's at the ponderosa
my file, bring it to trial
Get with that new, shit
Yes it's funky like a jackass, don't trip
I got pages and pages of metaphoric
Too for the human eye to catch
It's the, gangsta boogie, do you a example
Or do you just taste a sample?
Out of control, gone, warped, zoned,
me the heater, I need the speakers
Sparks, flames, no but peep game
like a choo-choo train
It's the criminal nigga king tee
With the westside riders, comin creepin crawlin like
We've bit by the dog, call the catcher stretcher
Judge fletcher betcha, your blood pressure
The unsolved mystery, mixed up our
Put us in the twist, we no longer exist,
.. dissapeared, then it's like
.. mine and yours dissapear, so like
Servin soon, here comes your
Right when the go ka-boom, so am i
Sane, or, sick in the
Or do everybody style the same? (yep)

- 2x

Yeahh... terrorist.. (? )
Tr, the funk
My nigga tee with the funky west shit right?
this out..
Beat terrorist, beat terrorist, terrorist, beat terrorist, (? )