Luyện nghe bài hát Chinese New Year

I'm at your door, your eyes are like why are you
Judging by my I got something to do here
Give up the money or the cries two tears
Front of your crib like Chinese New Year
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat

Mask on face, in hand
I was in and out of homes the Orkin man
listen to my parents like an orphan man
Strong finger on the trigger like it's hands

goodies like Repo Man Sam
Make nigga kick that can, fall victim to the klick klack
My vixen eat ya face, like ya she Ms. Pac wish her command, uh
ADT's ain't stop me, like ABC's
Snip cut just as easy as 1 2 3, breaking an entry so elementary

Get what the hustlers get for trying to do the hustlers do
Give up the cash I turn you cookie monster blue
And your man and them for trying to be too
Earnie and Bert, I bet them holes burning and hurt

I'm at your door, your eyes are like why are you
Judging by my steel I got something to do
Give up the or the angel cries two tears
Front of your crib like Chinese New Year
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat

Let's cops and robbers and watch
and Koch turn cops to martyrs
As well as niggaz wit to rob us
Try me, I'll this motherfucker into shuttas

Wit them 911's
Gunfire leave remains like 9/11
And get the of rounds dispensing
clack up make 'em back up like it's invisible fencing

When I bits and pieces of bone chip and flesh
It tears me to
Cooperate, escaping useless, me I'm your friend
I will you through this

or treat niggaz wit hoods want the goods
I feel like Robin Hood I share it wit my hood
forget, he who plays hero gets hit
Don't let the 9 mill riddle wits smarty pants

I'm at door, your eyes are like why are you here
Judging by my steel I got to do here
Give up the money or the angel cries two
Front of crib sounding like Chinese New Year
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat

I feel none, when you hear that humming, common sense
To take a duck and get the fuck outta way
Your dying absolutely make my day
Why he had to go look who, but he wasn't so he got

is what I did to him, now you will see to him
Hurried out his crib, that took everything

Let the boy

If I get you right you better hold your pistol tight
When we meet in the afterlife, cold chain I'm the black one that
Rosco P, young G, I speak I just squeeze
97 P will make you drop to knees

Before you know it, you'll be floating to a better place your soul feeling
I'm young, black and I just don't a fuck
Big gun on my waist, drugs in the
Sitting high in a truck, call me luck, me

I'm at your door, eyes are like why are you here
Judging by my I got something to do here
Give up the or the angel cries two tears
Front of your crib sounding like Chinese New

Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat