Luyện nghe bài hát Channel 10

(I'm feelin' this here) Yeah son feel it man up son. You gotta just do
it yo. (C.N.N.) Yo word up it's a different son word up on watch
the channel son plain now man. (It's all good) Word up baby all
in every hood. (Queensbridge) Word up you hood nawsayin'? (Iraq) Left
rack and all adat yo my hood word up gotta rep together son up for
life son. (check) Word up son let them know son I feel you man let
'em son.

It takes nothin' but a hot slug to fill a
Crook I'm about to make a
So weed to the feelin'
I regulate the dealin' jealous niggas the feelin'
I stack my safe jake on my trace I'm peelin'
And what a Mecca had whole fuckin' kneelin'
Embrace the and hit a buck without crashin' fuck
My drug passion got a stashin' fast what
One love to hill billys run forever out to
Playin' the nigga what can't stop the willy
Cops harassin' niggas while the day' passin'
Time for action cock the mac what a
Shoot slug caught up in the chest gaspin'
blanked out chopped before he start rappin'

Microchips in the celly the don't stop (don't stop)
Tappin' in bank funds with the labtop (labtop)
Wanna own a block before the ball (ball drop)
Arab natiz puttin' on the cops (x2)

Noreaga
up son fucked up son word up Trag. I know you know us both man but it
took the for us to click youknowhatI'msayin'? (yeah y'all met up
north) KnowhatI'msayin' we had to meet up (know what's real about all
this though that...) What real about it? (we were young we strive we
to eat knowhatI'msayin'?) God (we got a lot of fake niggas out man)
7-3 and 12 jewels. Niggas ain't bustin' that heat man. just frontin'
yo they ain't they heat they know who they is. (I'm tellin' my...)
who they is. (yo word is born)

C.N.N. network channel 10 on again
Street that' grown men
Bold face gat in face stay in your place
Yo crime lace catch more beef then (x2)
Court case illegal minds too
Back in '92 (you Juice son?)
I buc tose and got General Emanuel
Cell cold crop
Go bagged up by cream cop
(FUCK THE WORLD) The way the world dissed me
? poppie locked for posse up Khadafi
Collect all Arab natzi the fowl motney
You were lat in jail gte what what what
Them new they comin' through
Scared to death of the jail that's true
You cold weak live life on the
locked up homoed with pink sheets (bitch nigga)
Discrete and your cell shook to
I out no doubt till the day I'm out
Me personally what I did three kid you
Your and P.A.C.

Son fuck jail shit so tell 'em about the streets son (echo)