Luyện nghe bài hát Dayz of '89

Some of that shit
gangstas in the house
Representin' for the
Compton one
this out, uh

Hoo-bangin' in the
We gon' do it like
Compton in the
For all the thug out there
Life ain't nuthin' but and hot nines
hoes, keepin hid from one...
me out

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

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

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

Chorus...

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

Chorus...

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

Chorus...

Hoo-bangin' to the