Luyện nghe bài hát Don't Turn Around

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

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

I rob 'em all, to see who got the fattest stack
Walked in the bank, put the in the Kroger sack
Slapped on the four times 'fore he passed out
on the blow and my pockets was assed out

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

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

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

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

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

Nigga starting bragging in his hood the robbery
Wasn't then 'fore somebody dropped 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 to get to him before the police do
Caught up with him night and day, not him and his
Sprang down Chelsie Ave., kinda in the
For muh'fuckas death, dawg, I was fiending

He was at me strange, like I'ma catcha
I done hopped out the thang, lemme holla atcha
Foo, where you been, dog? My got sick, man
Fuck that got to do Hold up, I aint your bitch, man

I heard you been talking your lips loose
(Nah, it like that, dawg, I aint no damn fool)
Looking in his eyes, I see that he was so scared
I squeezed on the with the gun to his forehead

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

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

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

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

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

I done threw my life away, hunted by by pigs
Robbing every day, drops in off my nig
They done found my whereabouts, to do me in
Kicking in the door and I was in the den

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

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