Luyện nghe bài hát City Of Dank

[Baby
It's your boy, beesherelli mane,
La clika,
Representin' that yay dogg,
Down South mane, Houston, Texas mane, with my smokin'

Mister S-P

Beesh]
S-P-M baby boy, Park Mexican,
With my nephew, Happy P,
Man on the track, one love,

One time for that

[Baby
Ikeman my boy, representin' that clique mane,
Houston, mane,
We fixin' to you how we get down mane, check it out

[Chorus (Baby & Ikeman):]
Beesh]
Where I from, the city of dank,
Where niggas hop, snort, and smoke crank,
Where anything's and nothin' fa sho,
High off Khadafi mixed with

Well I come from, the of drank,
Where niggas drop tar, and drip paint,
Grip the grain, the lane,
Swingin' on thangs,
Got the trunk with the bang 'cause the South on stayin'

[First (Baby Beesh):]
Some of you G's can't it,
We love our green like the Boston Celtics,
They felt it 'cause saucy Chicano's down with Latino Velvet,
Don't get it twisted, we got some more in case you it,
from the Buh-ay, where them niggas keep it playeristic,
Now every hour, a is devoured,
Some perkin', off the powder, slangin' go mental flowers,
Smokin' cavys in the Navi, or the door fleetwood caddy,
Geekin', while we tweekin' or the puporalli,
jokers what we ran with,
And them haters can't stand it,
frantic 'cause us hispanics,
Gigantic the Titanic nigga,
Seven seas, I'm tryin' to cop keys,
All folks with the 2-0-9's got whole for eleven G's,
So I ain't Baby Beesh all about that scrilla scratchin',
Hooked up with the Ikeman now we robbin' in fashion,
with a bullet, we bumpin' totally insane,
I'd like to praise the Mac God for me the game

[Second (Ike Man):]
Off the top, all us realas double R we hard,
Down South we hit the bar, 'dro up in the guards,
car we send low, bout my fetty and the dough,
For those don't know it's three and a quarter for the bow,
Lime green lil' apartment, kind that make you rhyme,
But oh, dollar shine, it takes to make 'em blind,
I'm on the to go and get,
I got my ready to spit,
I-K-E my digits,
Feds me 'cause I did it,
I done flipped it into green, with my cousin' beam,
We be up the scene with our mugs on mean,
7-1-3, we coldest, from the they can't hold us,
Got the bricks, got the boulders, let the World it's over,
I-K-E and S-P-M, and that Mexican Beesh,
to make major cash from the bay to seven one tre,
That's how we do it some G's,
Makin' money these ki's,
Every block we bleeds,
to put this game on freeze

[Third (SPM):]
Cognac sipper, born to flipper,
hoes like my boy Jack Tripper,
Glass slippers, on my ray Lac,
I was way back, walkin' down a train track,
Mary Jane gave my ass a brain lapse,
Insane raps ridin' strange cats,
Plain gats, nothin' but do the job,
Rollin' tryin' to find someone new to rob,
A lot of you smoke, a lot of what you snort,
Playin' crack seemed to be my favorite sport,
My dance floor was the hot corner store,
Beat 'em down, hol' 'em up, that boy want 'em no more,
Chest cracker, neck snapper, make the Mex act a,
Muthafuckin' fool on the actor,
Lead blaster, I hope it hits you it has to,
It's the S-P-M syrup mixed with Shasta