Luyện nghe bài hát City Lights

(talking)

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

I know this african cat jet black, gold
we can split a half a mil if I could get his wife killed.
The on him, jake to pull seven on patrol.
Cops shot on the by his man thats on parole.
Now he haunted, had a big screen but he 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 ducks for their bucks.
One day he slipped up, caught two to his gut.
But he
To say the first wasnt shit.
What you wit?
A 22 kid?
Then he flipped quick, bust back four-fifths.
Six fire, hit, one crushed the pelvis.
The others through his wrist.
How's for accurate?
The kids for life.
Equipped a permanent limp.
He was ill when he was young, tryin to his son.
Everytime come he blast the mac one-one.
Spendin two g's on to impress the hoes.
Got money in with a house on the low.
He played the 5 boros, fly
he couldn't die.
Bags of hydro in da 5, high.
He had a rep for hijackin, extortion, kidnappin.
Shootin up clubs, airport trafficking.
He met his match, fuck around and rob the cat.
For a hundred and g's the God want his cream back.
Now a gun battle.
But the son fessin, he grabbed his wesson.
niggaz lookin for me i'ma shoot their ass a lesson.
Going all out, kill or be killed, done is done.
These niggaz not stoppin me havin my fun.
He at the tunnel, flexin his whip, dipped.
Had to much cavarsia so he to slip.
Oh shit! their go dem that I stuck
That black truck. a fuck.
They their cream, i'ma let my gat bust.
Let his shells fly, the God got hit he wounded.
The liquor started talkin didn't know he was doin.
He crashed the whip, out ran to sixth
a cab.
"yo take me to ave"
He did too to live, and too much to turn back.
Lay bleedin, wonderin why it had to end that.
Nobodys left, the just me and myself.
In back the of the cab, son bled to death.
fucked up he was a good nigga...

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

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

Young wild livin street life on the edge
Not if tomorrow they could turn up dead.
Yo fuck regular cops niggaz get by the feds.
The ghetto 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, what I'm sayin, shaolin.
Word up, queens niggaz, up