Luyện nghe bài hát Crenshaw/80s and Cocaine

You can me catch rolling Crenshaw (Crenshaw)
Is a motherfucking Impala? (Bitch Yeah)
Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling
Gang signs, watch us throw out the window
signs

Parked at the light, give a fuck about a nigga
Only nigga six figures that still click triggers
On my way to LAX, fuck the
Riding through South Central in the 'Wood I should
But I'm a Compton nigga, side monster nigga
You should by now, I fuck with all kinds of niggas
Call Big U and we going to see that vagina in you
You don't bang huh? That's that out of in you
My niggas eat late night, Diner menu
You a shooter? Better have North Carolina in you
I had wolves at all of venues
Dub's I let the snub show
I continue?
Fucking up like it was '05
Like Dre just listened to my whole demo and
out your neck, get you buried in no time
I heard you looking for me, Blood

You can me catch rolling Crenshaw (Crenshaw)
Is that a motherfucking (Bitch Yeah)
Magazine on my lap, I'm indo
Gang signs, watch us throw out the window
Gang

Nip be where the be
Skeme be where the be
Nigga, I'm the shit, give a fuck if niggas Cuz me
Say the wrong things wrong time, get a blood
Same color rag, still laying the subs be
Naw fuck that
I'll have a prostitute to open the trunk and cut nigga
have a couple crooked cops come and touch that nigga
Then get a in the pen to come and fuck that nigga
Life is crazy, yeah my life is
Don't let fool you, I'll kill you baby
Bury you in my backyard, I'm sittin on five acres
You go to war? I got the paper
wanna fade? I got the taper
Nigga to shoot? I got the laser
Any bitch want to fuck, I got a take it
And I don't put no tints on my
One strap, clip nigga!

You can me catch rolling down (Crenshaw)
Is a motherfucking Impala? (Bitch Yeah)
Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling
Gang signs, watch us them out the window
Gang

Bullets through the windows and the walls
on the set, all my niggas on call
Don't pray for me, pray for them
Menace to society, I'm like Lorenz
I want the rims nigga, and your chain
Don't blame me, blame 80s and
I want the rims nigga, and gold chain
Don't blame me, 80s and cocaine

Ay yo I up, put on chronic like bitches makeup
Kush like and Meek, it's hard to breakup
38 tucked, take a piss and eat my
Six bitches at my kitchen ass naked
I got more bitches than Hugh Heff, niggaI 'm
Iced out Playboy pendant hanging my necklace
Used to take a brick chop that up in sections
Pack it in the car its Mexican no flexin'
that whip work, chop that, sell it out, we cop that
On and Brazil in my impala with the top back
my nigga Top at?
Remember them days you and Rock brought Watts back?
We was in Stevenson Village in front crib nigga
Leanin like a top hot, Tommy burgers with everything
Cop back my Glock fat Ross Akon black
pop up out of nowhere like State Farm BLAT!