Luyện nghe bài hát Dancin, Smokin, Drinkin

[Chorus x2: Mr.
Dancing, smoking,
blinking
Another weekend
Dancing, smoking,
blinking
Another weekend

The of the trick, the nerve of the trick
The nerve of the trick, the nerve of the
The nerve of the trick, I with the trick
Calicos, out to Moe's, imperial faness
left, six hop to the trisket, get to kick rock
I'ma something bounce high as the moon
Coast the homies, roll through, do what I do

[Mr.
In the coast the best roam, you'll get your chest blown
Killa be so strange you throw a vest on
We step on in blue'd up flashing
For the 213 and 619 we
Westside hard grind, Killa Kali the
All day, all night, choking smoking the
Bombay cascades, gangster through blocks
Common tell me what's hot and what's not

x2]

Now my weekends are similar but never the
Me and the ain't particular, we getting the brain
Politicing the game, a chick out her name
And when I'm hitting the thang I be like ripping the
See I'm a pimp in the game, is the name
Me and the homies smoking, the West Coast ain't
Don't trip, we the shit, me and my all riders
Quick to scoop your main chick and go and pull an
Posted up at the twin
Overlooking the Bay, popping champagne after
Ladies offer powder, players offer
and the power, making million dollar deals
Got the house on the
Hit the bouncing on chrome wheels
Hop out that thug appeal
Blow the bar up, keep guard up in Cali
my G's is starving hard up, waiting in the alley
Who you hating on homey, better around slowly
Blinking, start flashing, this fool thinking
Too much smoking, nah, too drinking
Nah, just another, just another, Cali

x2]

Out here we agaholics, indo-alcoholic, blazaholics, it's
make a few 'cause together it multiplies the multitude ripple
The sides to the Cripple, Valentinos
Orange Jones, blacks and Latinos, Lancaster and Chino
dipping banging, Shalamar
High priced lizards off of calamari
Eating on like fish and chips
I can't fuck with, and this is something you just can't with
up Shadow

[Mr.
We minded fools
With shaved heads, baggy and tattooes
No excuse, we all
Westside riders, g'd up is how find us homiciders
We're chart climbers, ain't no messing us
Mr. Shadow, Cisco, and the homey Kurupt, now up

til fade]