Luyện nghe bài hát Dayz of '89

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

Hoo-bangin' in the
We gon' do it like
in the house
For all the thug out there
Life nuthin' but money and hot nines
Crooked hoes, hid from one...
me out

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

Life ain't nuthin' but money and hot
Crooked hoes, keepin hid from
You got your uh, I got mine
you back to the time of '89

Pops sendin money in lines out of state
But too late, I'm on the now way past eight
Better they be on the look out for dark head
Or get caught up in a twist of a kiss goodnight
Love the days of gettin paid the cavi I clock
When I roam the hard knocks are the court block
Turnin tide, now you niggas wanna trip
a year-old cutlass and a bag full of grips
Still dips the hood, stay true is what tell me
Fuck you bitch-ass niggas, know the never fail me
Lord, forgive me cause sometimes I deal
With the from the hood where the mentality to kill
me and my kids next, that's real
Jealous-ass bitches cause y'all no skrill
Time will
I be damned if I let y'all stop my next meal

Chorus...

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

Chorus...

Hoo-bangin' in the house,
You the fuck we regulate
For all the thug niggas out
Thug on the block
Compton to the
Hoo-bangin' till I die,
Check out

Chorus...

Hoo-bangin' to the