Luyện nghe bài hát Fo 'eva Blunted

There's death in the air, my are bloodshot red.
I'm blunted so I don't care.
to my nappy black hair, it's the year of the leader,
A follower's a dummy, he'll die alone with no fuckin'
All alone in his crib lookin' out the window, the wind blow,
nintendo.
Jackin' off, like that's not happenin',
Hands are clappin, are tappin', niggas is rappin'!
(who the fuck are you? ) yo, I'm the nine. blunted, always hunted,
In my prime.
My skills have grown a fungus to make gs in the hundreds,
As the tongue wicked, I kick it.
On the ave, with my niggas, c-notes,
40s wrapped in brown paper bags; loadin' up mags, 5-0 patrols,
I'm blunted, still hunted, still don't know what the fuck he wanted.
Jumped out the blue-and-white that bullshit stick in his grip tight,
I ain't in the tonight.
Forever stressin', make a nigga to pull his smith-n-wesson...
(redrum!) no question.
That shit be makin' your screws 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 rushin' all snakes and no matter their color,
We're the generation of rebels.
Hard-headed, and ruthless, you'll wind up toothless,
The wanted, blunted...

[banging on door, 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 a blunt
Now!)

the flav, don't misbehave.
On my block, get shot when you see the infrared dot,
And hear the glock pop, you'll 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, beats panhandlin':
A quarter here, a quarter there, see I you that's why we murder,
Ya fight for your 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 forever blunted anyway, I give a fuck what uncle sam say,
Okay, parlay.
on down the project block and make some noise,
Wake up the neighborhood beats, it's all good.
Spark a blizz-nut, on the project bench, here comes 5-0 again,
You know the 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,
I hit you with this garbage pail.
Mad stress...thank God for the bless, now it's off my chest.
Until tomorrow, it'll happen again, I'll be hunted, I'll still be wanted,
So I'm fo blunted...