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

In about four seconds, a will begin to speak

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

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

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

Rappers like gangbangin' I'm in it to the fullest
And my hood never dodgin' 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 B I itches on the premises
be dissin' on a down low, so now my motto's
"Fuck every rapper from the and the West Coast"

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

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

nigga, this shit make me sick
All these West Coast cowards New York beat
get sprayed wearin' high-top fades
And Cango's backwards with dark-ass

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

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

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

Nigga get off, this shit is
that, I bust you in the can with a motherfuckin' propajack
Spit on ya, shit on ya when I get on pissil
You're goin' up and your fuckin' 'cos I lovin' none of ya

And the female rappers are gettin' smacked
Stabbed in the and kicked in the back
'Cos I'm a Connection hista
Bored from a lover 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 Central L.A.
'Ey, I 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, nigga, to South L.A.

In about seconds, a killa will begin to speak

Now you can cross out the and snitches
B-Real and Miss is like Hollywood bitches
the niggas I know in the streets I run through
Swear to God bitch, real it ain't one dog and

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

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

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

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

his ass up and threw him in the truck
Put an apple in his and dug his ass out
I [Incomprehensible] lead him then down his stashed
In a bag with 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 chasin'
Stick to them dicks and balls used to
ass motherfuckers