Luyện nghe bài hát City Of Dank

[Baby
your boy, Baby beesherelli mane,
La clika,
that yay area dogg,
Down South mane, Houston, Texas mane, with my cousin

Mister S-P

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

One time for that

Beesh]
Ikeman my boy, representin' that 7-1-3 mane,
Houston, mane,
We fixin' to show you how we get down mane, it out

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

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

Verse (Baby Beesh):]
Some of you G's help it,
We love our money green like the Celtics,
They felt it every saucy Chicano's down with Latino Velvet,
Don't get it twisted, we got some more in you missed it,
Straight from the Buh-ay, where them niggas it playeristic,
Now every hour, a is devoured,
Some perkin', off the powder, slangin' go mental flowers,
Smokin' cavys in the Navi, or the four fleetwood caddy,
Geekin', we tweekin' or smellin' the puporalli,
Valley jokers we ran with,
And them just can't stand it,
They frantic us hispanics,
Gigantic like the nigga,
Seven seas, I'm tryin' to cop keys,
All folks with the got whole ones for eleven G's,
So I ain't passin' Baby all about that scrilla scratchin',
Hooked up with the now we robbin' in Guerilla fashion,
Eighteen with a bullet, we bumpin' insane,
I'd like to praise the Mac God for me the game

[Second (Ike Man):]
Off the top, all us double R we goin' hard,
South we hit the bar, smokin' 'dro up in the guards,
Foreign car we send low, bout my and the dough,
For those that don't know three and a quarter for the bow,
Lime lil' apartment, kind that make you wanna rhyme,
But oh, dollar shine, it takes time to 'em blind,
I'm on the to go and get,
I got my gangsta to spit,
I-K-E my digits,
Feds want me I did it,
I done flipped it green, with my cousin' lil' beam,
We be hoggin' up the scene with our on mean,
7-1-3, we coldest, the jump 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 Mexican Baby Beesh,
Down to major cash from the bay to seven one tre,
how we do it like some G's,
Makin' from these ki's,
Every block we bleeds,
About to put this game on

[Third (SPM):]
Cognac sipper, born to flipper,
hoes like my boy Jack Tripper,
Glass slippers, on my ray Lac,
I was broke way back, walkin' down a track,
Mary Jane gave my ass a brain lapse,
Insane raps with strange cats,
Plain gats, special but do the job,
Rollin' 'round tryin' to someone new to rob,
A lot of you smoke, a lot of what you snort,
crack bars seemed to be my favorite sport,
My dance floor was the hot corner store,
Beat 'em down, 'em up, that boy don't want 'em no more,
cracker, neck snapper, don't make the Mex act a,
Muthafuckin' fool on the actor,
blaster, I hope it hits you where it has to,
It's the S-P-M sippin' syrup with Shasta