Luyện nghe bài hát California

Southern
of low-ridin'
Gang-bangin' and

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

I've always down with hydros
And cholos, the
The six-threes, the
The rucas with no
Used to drop the
Gang-bang in a door
Puttin' bullet
In the doors of a Explorer
Hard-core, and I got more and
that came from?
Welcome to my
The are my freedom
I need em', I feed em', I
need that, like I need my weed sack
Take a toque,
Where we at?
Oh, California the state
Controllin' states, weight
vatos like me hallucinate
Double up while you up
Fuckin' up, you fuckin'
If no room
Then we'll em' by the fuckin' pump

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

Slippin' and dippin', the wheel
it up
Dump the back
Pop the one up
Put the top down
too good to stop now
This livin'
Smoke up on the
Party at the roof, off the
Got drug up in the book
You believe me
See for yourself and take a look
Low rider car
Hoppin' till the blows
me at the bar
Havin' a drink with my
with no lime
That's I drink at all times
Creased up Davis', I'm always out like where the is
I from the underground
The underground like the basement is
It's California, people have a hard facin' it

I was raised in the of California
(Southern California, home of car-hoppin' and
West coast pop lockin', how we're talkin')
I was raised in the of California
(I was in Californ-I-A
Where homeboys die over some shit they say)

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

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 they say)