Luyện nghe bài hát Cross 'Em Out And Put A 'K

In four seconds, a gangsta will begin to speak

Well, it's the mad chickenhawk the dirty lick style
And 211's ever since taa-doow, there's ten million ways to die
Choosin' Mack and hit the boopin',
Off this gang-bang music, so all I'd wanna got the stumped

I'm smokin', dough like Trump
chowder to they chunk, punk
Straight off dust, nigga I bust
And cross 'em out and put a 'K if they ain't down us

off the hook, nigga, I'm a Westside crook, nigga
The forty motherfuckin' dollars on my books,
I'm not an MC, I'm not a G
I mean I'm A to fuckin' Z and everything in

Rappers gangbangin' 'cos I'm in it to the fullest
And my hood ain't never bullets
It's all about the and Crips, no one tri-ips
Colors and dips, and chips, nigga

What's this my friggen low-grader
That takes puff B I itches on the
Nigga be on a down low, so now my motto's
"Fuck every rapper from the East and the Coast"

New School, Old School, I you motherfuckers
I'm steady plottin', cracklin' my ass wit'cha covers
'em out and put a 'K
Then no Saint days, nigga, then run the fuckin'

'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.
'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to Central L.A.

'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.
'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.

Goddamn nigga, this make me sick
All West Coast cowards ridin' New York beat
Busters get sprayed high-top fades
And Cango's backwards with shades

No switchblades, nigga, we
how it is on the West when you're true to your roots
So kill the action, punk, hootchie clown
Nigga get sag on and keep your pants legs down

Check it, ho' shut your and get naked
I'm Connected and ain't no singin' on this record
No R and B tracks, just on wax
Kickin' with these gang-bang raps

nigga in the industry wanna rap with me
Like it's all good, you ain't my hood
Nigga, I don't even like your shit, I like your form
I'm true, your through, fuck you

Nigga get off, shit is wacked
Fuck that, I bust you in the can a motherfuckin' propajack
on ya, shit on ya when I get on your pissil
You're up and your fuckin' 'cos I ain't lovin' none of ya

And the female rappers are gettin' smacked
Stabbed in the and kicked in the back
'Cos I'm a Westside hista
Bored a lover dishin' nothin' but foolers and dirty rubbers

'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.
'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to Central L.A.

'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.
'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.

In about four seconds, a killa will begin to

Now you can out the busters and snitches
B-Real and Miss Muggs is like bitches
From the niggas I know in the streets I run
to God bitch, real it ain't one dog and nobody

So what you say,who ya talkin' 'bout,ya tweakin'
And keep hogs out'cha mouth when ya bitch ass is
I'm sick wit it, cappin' cha till I hit it
This Westside Connection, know they can't fuck with it

Use to get kisses and hugs, now I'm ya slugs
Fuck B-Real and Muggs, y'all niggas ain't no thugs
Be all surprised, everybody
From Columbian neckties covered fright

Ya maggots, ya fuckin' faggots
I shoulda hurt you, every that I know wanna hurt you
So I pull my spray-can to spray
I'm C H K all motherfuckin' day

I once knew this by the name of Q-Tip
Who claim he had a problem this gangsta shit
Behind closed doors, his mouth like a trick-in
Till this nigga 'bout the name of caught him slippin'

Tied his ass up and threw him in the
Put an apple in his and dug his ass out
I [Incomprehensible] lead him down his body stashed
In a trash bag a cue-cover in his ass

'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.
'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.

'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to Central L.A.
'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.

Don't go waterfalls
to them dicks and balls you're used to
Punk ass