Luyện nghe bài hát Chinese New Year

I'm at door, your eyes are like why are you here
Judging by my steel I got something to do
Give up the money or the angel cries two
Front of your crib sounding like 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 like the man
Never to my parents like an orphan man
Strong finger on the trigger like it's hands

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

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

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

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

Wit them revin
Gunfire brethren remains like 9/11
And get the of rounds dispensing
That clack up make 'em back up like invisible fencing

When I picture bits and pieces of chip and flesh
It tears me to
Cooperate, escaping useless, trust me I'm your
I talk you through this

or treat niggaz wit hoods want the goods
I feel Robin Hood when I share it wit my hood
Don't forget, he who plays gets hit
Don't let the 9 riddle your 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 cries two tears
of your 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

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

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

Let the boy

If I didn't get you right you better hold pistol tight
When we meet in the afterlife, cold chain I'm the one that bleed
Rosco P, young G, I don't I just squeeze
97 P will you drop to your knees

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

I'm at your door, your are like why are you here
by my steel I got something to do here
Give up the money or the angel cries two
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
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat
Brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, brat, ka-ka-kat, kat