Luyện nghe bài hát For Real

1:

I got this pot of white soap
Stuck my down the center
When I entered I it cause it was like dope
But on the real-a he was me for scratch
out of 36 ounces this motherfucker brought me 20 back
I'm slanging 20 cause I done lost 16
And these streets ain't going to bring me back
Now it be the southside big baller
rock slanger stones done got slaughtered-damn
I'm going up on my thangs
And on don't go runnin my clique cause it's a old game
And all I wanted was some hundred stacks
I went from slangin' o-z's to movin' sacks
Gotta my money back
Cause I done too far up in these goddamn streets
To get my snatched
I'm so for real about this motherfuckin
any obstacle obscuring my paper is gettin' killed
For

(scratching and mixing)
All I have is this skrilla

2:

I know nigga run this game of life
So motherfuckin that at night he got to sleep with lights
Cause he done come across with shit so
That mutha fuckers comin with clips to him
Aint no and once they spot him they gon' sure face him
And once the got him they gon' waste him
This no mutha fuckin joke nigga it ain't worth it
And even if mother gets in it you cant surface
It was all
Just like bullshit you was serving it was all purpose
We all chipped in and we all hurting
I gots to grind like in eighty-nine
When a niggas 25 cent pieces look just like baby
I'm on the selling whole eights
I remember being this fuckin paranoid since I sold weight
I from 50 sacs to 50 packs
And all this motherfucker got jipped he wants to jip me back
But I find him I'm gon finalize him
Just to let a nigga know I'm for and down to die for mine
And I'm for real about this mutha skrill
That any obscuring my paper is gettin killed
For

3:

Game made to be since eighty-six when I started
Seems like with hustle got outsmarted
Cause now they wanna analyze homies for scratch
Catch them when sleeping come down and up scrap
And even though I plotted niggas for ends
I never took out straps and gats at friends
It was all about being for real where I was
Where few niggas came real but I was one
I this to my homies stuck in battle
Living life being caught up in this mutha gamble
The game made to be but the niggas still started
Cocaine seems to be blamed for the niggas slaughtered
How times you had your homie shot
By the same mutha fucker whose came from your homies block
Niggas get up in the paper chase
And lose for the game
That was before the cake was made