Luyện nghe bài hát Deep Down

[Brotha
Yeah I load a 9 up everyday, but why
My told me homie make them tapes
And keep that 24 block
But if I I'm in need, I got's to ride
Carry a 9 for straight business, not a side
Man it's the night-mare, up in the cut
I'm dice games, barbeques, no matter what
The things I've seen'll make ya up
Flaunt your flag, shoot your gats, hit dank
Where I'm that's how ya grow up
Man that wicked and 9 millimeter
Carrier stereo-typed daily
Ya to feel me, foo it's that baby
Killas run around everyday that's why I'm
Ya heard it I got my own
Out into the and hit the city of Sac
Them homies given me
But you got them fools that a foe then
They why I'm carryin me a 12 gauge pump
Man I no punk
The everyday thug that's how it sounds
I'm defendin myself, and that mili
And em layin

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Deep down, there's a for hope

[Mr.
I guess it's to explain why I'm feelin how I'm feelin
I guess I'm feelin cus my homies got some stealin
And foos would say that it's my I bet
See cus I wasn't strapped yo, but I fuck my set
How I know that them foos would blast?
Later on, on my
It's funny how this got its different strokes
I think my loccs and how they made it
Though I'm stressin from the
They gotta suffer a bullet hole
And Mr. just don't have hope locc
It's been a month, since my last down partner got smoked
And is deep, up in my city foo
Since I'm on the underground team, I can't no peace
My life is up so I guess I'm stuck
Yeah, I got my St. Ides, I'm it up
To get drunk, I post up on the street
I say to myself, for the block
Homie in peace

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[Brotha
They say ain't the way to handle that type funk
But now I'm up the strap, smokin on that blunt
Just cus the Brotha is flag-up
What that mean, I can't
Why G's up in my face, I'm bout to help ride
I keep a low pro, the 4-0
And lounge until it's to go
up the forty-fo
Rollin up the boogey-boo,
And hopin if I should die, I'm high
they bury me in 50 pounds of chocolate thai
I got them homies from the givin it up and
Them homies from the east-side slangin stuff and
I'm right up in the tryin to hang on and
Tryin not to end up like them niggas doin in the pen
But again
I'm for when the homies is ready to roll em up
You know, stick in a cut
And as I'm creepin ya set
Trip, don't get up, shot up
The gardenblock locc's, man we leave em

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