Luyện nghe bài hát City Lights

(talking)

Young wild niggaz street life on the edge
Not knowin if they could turn up dead.
Yo regular cops niggaz get scoped by the feds.
The live in bloodshed (yo), we live in bloodshed.

I this african cat jet black, gold grill
Said we can split a a mil if I could get his wife killed.
The feds on him, jake to pull on patrol.
Cops shot on the stroll by his man on parole.
Now he haunted, had a big but he pawned it.
Watchin fox, saw his face on most wanted.
With seeds to feed, stressed out like bricks.
So he got a fix, roll his crackhead click.
Stay twisted, robbin young for their bucks.
One day he slipped up, two shells to his gut.
But he
To say the first shell shit.
you workin wit?
A rusty 22
Then he quick, bust back from four-fifths.
Six fire, four hit, one the pelvis.
The others went his wrist.
How's for accurate?
The kids for life.
Equipped a permanent limp.
He was ill he was young, tryin to raise his son.
beef come he blast the mac one-one.
Spendin two g's on gold to the hoes.
Got in milwaukee with a house on the low.
He played the 5 boros, fly
Thought he die.
Bags of in da 5, gettin high.
He had a rep for hijackin, extortion, kidnappin.
Shootin up clubs, airport trafficking.
He met his match, fuck and rob the wrong cat.
For a hundred and eighty g's the God want his back.
Now a gun battle.
But the son fessin, he grabbed his wesson.
These niggaz lookin for me i'ma their ass a lesson.
Going all out, or be killed, what's done is done.
These not stoppin me from havin my fun.
He at the tunnel, flexin his whip, dipped.
Had to cavarsia so he started to slip.
Oh shit! their go dem niggaz I stuck
black truck. give a fuck.
They want cream, i'ma let my gat bust.
Let his fly, the God got hit twice he wounded.
The liquor started didn't know what he was doin.
He crashed the whip, jumped out ran to
a cab.
"yo me to madison ave"
He did too much to live, and too to turn back.
Lay bleedin, wonderin why it had to end that.
left, the world just me and myself.
In back the back of the cab, son to death.
It's fucked up he was a nigga...

[word up..the street stories..know I'm sayin.]
[word up, wit the city kids...yeah.]

Young wild niggaz livin life on the edge
Not if tomorrow they could turn up dead.
Yo fuck regular cops get scoped by the feds.
The ghetto live in bloodshed (yo), we in bloodshed.

Young wild niggaz livin street on the edge
Not knowin if tomorrow could turn up dead.
Yo fuck regular cops niggaz get by the feds.
The live in bloodshed (yo), we live in bloodshed.

And we die in bloodshed, up.
We born to the paradise so your life, word up.
Black man on, word up.
Head strong..to the one..men on lock down.
up.
Gun rule, the bx, bk, know I'm sayin, shaolin.
Word up, niggaz, word up