Luyện nghe bài hát December 24

It is surely time that the speech of the Black culture of America be recognized as a genuine dialect of English. It is in every of the word...
Yeah, uh, uh, uh

Allen with the picked 'fro, in the outlet
Alley-oopin' all the home
Powered-up, out for the
Don't panic it get cold, we go at it, ho
How you want ribs smoked, family? Uh
Ten toes, know you on your shit
Big stone, granite and your fist
on the strip
Don't panic the pig come
Scramble, get the big tall fetti, and then get
up—tally up the wins though
Don't think he he pro-violence
But it's gon' be problem if he did, though
I out the way, ayy
where the Crips stay
Silent when the pigs came browsin' in his
Bang like two mallets, too callous for your bitch
'Member when they had my on a drip drink
How much of that gin straight? Could have filled a tank
My doggy hit my cell, say he got me off the
Ask him, "That's how it is?" say
"You die and you live, huh?"
Your heart and then your break
catch me when I slip, bro
What's poppin'? a hip bone
I told you, these niggas like the Citgo
We passin', niggas know we keep the gas inside the roll
The wind get the in the end, bro
We been took pass and your credentials, uh
Bad apple, daily clashin' my kinfolk
Bad acid did damage to my
you right, it took some passages to get grown
They been me savage from the get go
Uh