Luyện nghe bài hát Don't Turn Around

I only fuck wit those, who fuck wit me
A sucka for games, a man play for keeps
I me a nine millimeter just in case
A in my face, these bullets, he gon' taste

A waste of your life, stepping wrong, I'm on
Best to leave me alone, to go make some cheese
come in all shapes, forms, sizes, colors
Could be your best friend, cousin or

I rob 'em all, just to see who got the stack
Walked in the bank, put the loot in the sack
on the guard four times 'fore he passed out
Eyes on the blow and my pockets was out

Had on a coat, wig and some goggles
Ifn you resist, you may not see
Im in there, outta there, the couldn't get me
But I made a up, had a trick wit me

Dont around
(Give me the cheese, trick)
Dont make a
(Show me where keys at)

Lay it on the
(Knowing that pockets fat)
'Fore I buck you
(And Im to do that)

Dont turn
(Give me the cheese, trick)
Dont make a
(Show me them keys at)

Lay it on the
(Knowing that your fat)
'Fore I buck you
(And Im to do that)

Nigga starting bragging in his hood the robbery
Wasn't long then 'fore somebody the dime on me
I'ma be the one they cant get to, they the boy up
Run his mouth just like a fool, he gon get me up

But, I'ma have to get to him the police do
up with him night and day, not him and his crew
Sprang Chelsie Ave., kinda in the evening
For this muh'fuckas death, dawg, I was

He was looking at me strange, like catcha
I done hopped out with the thang, lemme holla
Foo, you been, dog? My momma got sick, man
Fuck that got to do witchu? Hold up, I aint bitch, man

I heard you been your muh'fucking lips loose
(Nah, it aint like that, dawg, I aint no fool)
Looking in his eyes, I could see that he was so
I squeezed on the trigga the gun to his forehead

Dont turn
(Give me the cheese, trick)
Dont make a
(Show me where keys at)

Lay it on the
(Knowing your pockets fat)
'Fore I buck you
(And Im to do that)

turn around
(Give me the cheese, trick)
make a sound
(Show me them keys at)

Lay it on the
(Knowing that pockets fat)
'Fore I you down
(And Im to do that)

Blew the top out his skull, now they me dead
All the niggas in his hood, and the Feds
out of Westwood, way out of the side
On the other of town, somewhere I can hide

I done threw my away, hunted by them by pigs
Robbing other day, drops in off my nig
done found my whereabouts, 'bouts to do me in
Kicking in the door and I was in the den

SK was the couch, snatch it off the wham
Open fire on them hoes, I give a damn
Blood stream was full of dope, off coca leaf
Feds had me under a scope and an infrared

Rifle threw my throat, choking, hit tha flo
Gunpowder in my mouth, Heaven's door
Street life done took me out and shit aint fake
I done fuck off 'cause I made a mistake