Luyện nghe bài hát Fo 'eva Blunted

There's in the air, my eyes are bloodshot red.
I'm forever so I don't care.
Word to my nappy black hair, it's the 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',
are clappin, toes are tappin', niggas is rappin'!
(who the fuck are you? ) yo, I'm the nine. blunted, always hunted,
In my prime.
My skills grown like a fungus to make gs in the hundreds,
As the gets wicked, I kick it.
On the ave, my niggas, passin' c-notes,
Guzzlin' 40s in brown paper bags; loadin' up mags, 5-0 patrols,
I'm still blunted, still hunted, still don't know what the he wanted.
Jumped out the with that bullshit stick in his grip tight,
I in the mood tonight.
Forever stressin', make a nigga to pull his smith-n-wesson...
(redrum!) no question.
That shit be makin' your screws loose and like an old cart,
We tin men, niggas got heart!
my nigga noble and my nigga troy,
Strong, real with balls get 9-1-1 calls.
When shit hits the fan, I stand with my blunt and my glock in my hand,
the plan?
We bum rushin' all snakes and devils no their color,
the next generation of rebels.
Hard-headed, undisciplined and ruthless, wind up toothless,
The wanted, blunted...

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

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