Luyện nghe bài hát California

California
Home of
Gang-bangin' and

I was raised in the of California
(Southern California, of car-hoppin' and bomb-droppin'
West coast pop lockin', walkin' how talkin')
I was raised in the of California
(I was in Californ-I-A
Where homeboys die everyday over some they say)

I've always been down hydros
And cholos, the
The six-threes, the
The rucas with no
Used to drop the
in a four door
Puttin' holes
In the doors of a Explorer
Hard-core, and I got more and
Where came from?
to my kingdom
The are my freedom
I need em', I feed em', I
They that, like I need my weed sack
a toque, wacha
Where we at?
Oh, California the golden
Controllin' states, weight
vatos like me hallucinate
Double up you fumble up
Fuckin' up, you fuckin'
If there's no
Then stick em' by the fuckin' pump

I was raised in the of California
(Southern California, of car-hoppin' and bomb-droppin'
West coast pop lockin', walkin' how talkin')
I was raised in the streets of
(I was raised in
Where die everyday over some shit they say)

Slippin' and dippin', grippin' the
it up
Dump the corner
Pop the one up
Put the top down
It's too good to now
California livin'
Smoke up on the
at the roof, off the hook
Got drug up in the book
You don't me
See for yourself and take a closer
Low rider car
till the truck blows
me at the bar
Havin' a drink my uncles
Pacifico no lime
what I drink at all times
Creased up Davis', I'm always out where the pavement is
I come the underground
The underground like the basement is
California, people have a hard time facin' it

I was in the streets of California
(Southern California, home of and bomb-droppin'
West coast pop lockin', how we're talkin')
I was in the streets of California
(I was raised in
Where homeboys die everyday over some shit say)

Low bicycles, tricycles
Cold as
chronic shit
So high, you would think my are closed
I got my on those
Who be thinkin' that my eyes are
But not ese
Trucha you get too close
You'll know, I know
What you think, I know
I might explode,
Reload, and
You broke the code, you to go
Ain't no future in frontin'
Crazy homeboy
the cuete's bustin'
California stylin', ridin'
Whittier to 'Frisco
Then back to
I to do it like the locos do
Don't your ride
Hop your like you're supposed to do, through

I was raised in the streets of
(Southern California, of car-hoppin' and bomb-droppin'
West coast pop lockin', how we're talkin')
I was raised in the streets of
(I was raised in
Where homeboys die everyday over shit they say)