Luyện nghe bài hát Dayz of '89

Some of that shit
Hoo-bangin' in the house
for the west
Compton one
Check out, uh

Hoo-bangin' in the
We do it like this
Compton in the
For all the niggas out there
Life ain't nuthin' but money and hot
Crooked hoes, hid from one...
me out

Somebody help me out the
Cause there's some things I can't let go, uh
My mind takes a
Lord, I try to cope it, but I scream: fucks the world!
Young nigga dreams of schemes for the cash
But then to the sounds of late nite gun blasts
My moms my ass: hit the floor!
the hot ones echo through the window
Damn, why the fuck it's - my
Graffiti lookin' and niggas who slangin' rock
Fo' sho', I wanna be like that, mike
Unless mike was on the corner with a at night
Gettin harrassed by the cops cause tryin' to make some dough
So he can up from a caddy and dumps the pinto
So in the hood can cops the lleyo
And I can collects the cash

Life ain't nuthin' but money and hot
Crooked hoes, hid from one-time
You got your strap uh, I got
Takin you to the time of '89

Pops sendin money in from out of state
But too late, I'm on the corner now way eight
Better they be on the out for dark head lights
Or get caught up in a twist of a kiss goodnight
the days of gettin paid with the cavi I clock
When I the hard knocks are the court down block
Turnin tide, now you bitch wanna trip
With a year-old cutlass and a bag full of
Still dips the hood, stay true is what tell me
Fuck you bitch-ass niggas, know the nina fail me
Lord, forgive me sometimes I can't deal
With the pressures the hood where the mentality to kill
Protects me and my kids next, real
Jealous-ass bitches cause gots no skrill
will reveal
I be if I let y'all niggas stop my next meal

Chorus...

Now I sits in nite spots and clock chips
With a bag of chips eatin loaded up extra
out for the knock at the do'
Throw your through the mail and pick up the damn blow
Quickly now, don't let the show
Or I'm hitted to the spot where the moon blow
Life's a bitch, not a dance
Life's too for my ass to try to chance
Last niggas get caught for the fuckin dollars
Have your ass on g.r. I dip impalas
Blue-collar niggas sellin to white-collar
But I don't givin a fuck, y'all know cash
Pay ya dues, true to the street
Get your money, man, fo' packs my heat
Told by the g'z that is cheap
But y'all know since the days I'm in too

Chorus...

Hoo-bangin' in the house,
You know the fuck we
For all the niggas out there
Thug niggas on the
to the fullest
Hoo-bangin' till I die,
Check out

Chorus...

Hoo-bangin' to the