Luyện nghe bài hát December 24

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

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