Luyện nghe bài hát Fo 'eva Blunted

There's death in the air, my are bloodshot red.
I'm forever blunted so I care.
Word to my nappy black hair, the year of the leader,
A follower's a dummy, he'll die alone with no money;
All alone in his crib lookin' out the window, while the blow,
nintendo.
Jackin' off, shit that's not happenin',
Hands are clappin, are tappin', niggas is rappin'!
(who the fuck are you? ) yo, I'm the nine. forever blunted, hunted,
In my prime.
My skills have grown like a fungus to gs in the hundreds,
As the gets wicked, I kick it.
On the ave, with my niggas, c-notes,
Guzzlin' 40s wrapped in brown paper bags; up mags, 5-0 patrols,
I'm still blunted, still hunted, don't know what the fuck he wanted.
Jumped out the blue-and-white with that bullshit stick in his tight,
I ain't in the tonight.
Forever stressin', a nigga want to pull his smith-n-wesson...
(redrum!) no question.
That shit be makin' screws loose and like an old shopping cart,
We tin men, niggas got heart!
Like my nigga noble and my troy,
Strong, real brothers balls get 9-1-1 calls.
When shit hits the fan, there I with my blunt and my glock in my hand,
What's the
We bum all snakes and devils no matter their color,
We're the next of rebels.
Hard-headed, and ruthless, you'll wind up toothless,
The wanted, blunted...

on door, phone ringing]
(damn, man, who the fuck was that, niggas is bangin' on the door, fuckin'
Game is on, fuckin' kid is cryin. I'm stressed, man, damn! I need a
Now!)

Check the flav, misbehave.
On my block, you'll get when you see the infrared dot,
And the glock pop, you'll drop like rain in mad pain,
When a nigga got nothin' to lose, a nigga insane.
Mad heads on the ave scramblin', gamblin',
As I see it, shit panhandlin':
A quarter here, a quarter there, see I told you why we murder,
Ya either fight for your or you're fucked like bertha.
It's silly, here comes the
You can get drunk as a skunk, but illegal.
I'm forever blunted anyway, I don't give a what uncle sam say,
Okay, parlay.
Ease on the project block and make some noise,
Wake up the pumpin' beats, it's all good.
Spark a blizz-nut, lamp on the project bench, comes 5-0 again,
You the monkey wrench.
Fuckin' up a fun is always illin',
the fuck off, flat foot, we chillin'.
You don't here anyway, take your ass back to scarsdale,
Before I hit you with garbage pail.
Mad stress...thank God for the buddha bless, now off my chest.
Until tomorrow, it'll happen again, I'll still be hunted, still be wanted,
So I'm fo blunted...