Luyện nghe bài hát Black THougHts (Pt. 3)

Pissy sofas, food with roaches, uh
I'm gangsta, Crip, my poppa was a
me where hopeless don't exist
And neighbor got a fence
With bars and windows, my mom's slavin' for the
dices, GT dyno pool
Where you hang, we
You slip, we
Crippin', uh
Bitches traffic
This the type of shit that make the MAC a
Reason I'm a magnet
She to carry package
Been the at rappin', uh
Am I this
Your favorite rapper broke, he don't get paper
But claim he got a kilo, been born in '93
He fool the people
Man

The joke's on you,
The loc is on you,
I you, it's karma
Black thoughts and marijuana, karma

Ain't changed but the change
put our brains away from gangs
Crips and the old and new slaves
Shit we even our names
Trying something, new while we bang
But yo, y'all hearin' me
My facin' life, told me that my pride my biggest enemy
But you keep your eyes in that
Your mind, it greys your
I wrote rhymes days apart
Most of us before we can expand our thoughts
How grandmother see your corpse?
How your big homie make your life a
you for dead cause he ain't need you, right
But I'm gon' him, right
Let's put the down and raise our kids
put the guns down and blaze a spliff
Let's do it now, no buts or ifs
It took a Blood to get me Pringle
You can learn to fly or the ladder
Real nigga shit, all matter, both sides
Man

The on you, mothafucka
The loc is on you,
I warned you, it's
thoughts and marijuana, it's karma