Luyện nghe bài hát Crenshaw/80s and Cocaine

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

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

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

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

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

Bullets coming through the 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 gold chain
Don't me, blame 80s and cocaine
I want the rims nigga, and your gold
Don't blame me, 80s and cocaine

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