Luyện nghe bài hát Fuck Tha Police

blaring.]

Fuck the police. the police. Fuck 'em . . .

Surprise.
You're right.

Yo, the police, comin' straight from the underground.
A young nigga got it bad I'm brown and not the other color. Some
police they have the authority to kill a minority,
but mad,
'cause I the one for a punk muthafucka with a badge and a gun to
be beatin' on and in jail.
But we can go toe to toe in the of the cell.
Fuckin' with a nigga, a nigga turned major,
and got a little bit of money and play us,
search a car,
for a product,
thinkin' thug nigga sellin' narcotics.
They'd see me in the pen,
me blowin' indo rollin' in my Benz-o.
I send the to the grave,
and when I'm finished, nigga, the yellow tape
to tape off the of the slaughter,
still swoll off bread and water.
I don't know if fags or what--
search a down and grab on his nuts.
And on the hand,
without a gun they get none,
but let it be a black and a white one,
they'll slam ya down to the street top.
Black police showin' out for the cop,
but Krayzie will swarm
on any muthafucka in a uniform.
Just I'm from the C-L-E,
the punk muthafuckas are of me, huh.
A nigga on the warpath,
and I'm finished,
it's be a bloodbath
of dying around my way.
Yo, bitch, I got to say:
blaring.]

Fuck the police. Fuck the police. 'em . . .

Surprise.
You're right.
Krayzie and
Fuck the and Bone said it with authority,
the niggas on the street is a majority, a gang,
and it's I'm steppin'
that a weapon is kept in
the stash for the so-called law,
wishin' Bone was some niggas they never saw.
Lights flashin' behind me,
but they of a nigga,
so they me to blind me,
but that shit work. I just laugh,
and plus, it gives 'em a hint not to in my path.
The police, I'm sayin', "Fuck you, punk."
my rights and shit.
all junk.
Pullin' out a club,
so you with a fake-ass badge and a gun in your hand,
but off the gun,
so we can see up,
and go at it, punk,
and I'm a you up.
Made ya think I'm a your ass,
and the gat,
and Bone's blast.
I'm sneaky as fuck it comes to crime,
and I'm a smoke 'em now and not time.
Smoke any muthafucka that me
and any asshole threatens me.
I'm a sniper a hell of a scope,
out a cop or two.
They fuck with me.
The killa that's mad
potential to get bad as fuck.
Now I'm a it around--
dig in the clip, yo,
and this is the sound: Gunshots.]
Yeah, somethin' that,
but it all on the size of the strap.
Takin' out a police will my day,
and the niggas like Bone, don't give a to say . . .
blaring.]

Fuck the police. Fuck the police. 'em . . .

Surprise.
You're right.

I'm tired of muthafuckin' jackins.
Sweatin' my thug, we be thuggin' in the shack and
shinin' the lights in my and for what?
Maybe it's I'm kickin' so much butt.
I ass, nigga.
Maybe, I blast
on a stupid-ass nigga I'm playin' with the trigger
of an uzi or an AK,
'cause the police always got stupid to say.
They out my picture with silence,
my identity along with my groups causes violence.
It's Bone the criminal behavior.
Yeah, I'm thugsta, nigga,
but I got flavor.
a gun and a badge, what do you got?
A nigga in a uniform waitin' to get
by me or one of my niggas,
and a gat it don't matter if you're smaller or bigger.

Size don't shit. I'm from the old school, fool.

And as you all know, Bone came to rule.
I'm rollin',
keep on lookin' in mirror,
and on cue, yo,
so I can hear a dumb with a gun.
And I'm rollin' off the Eight,
you'll be the one I take out,
and I get away,
and I'm drivin' off laughin',
this is what I say, believe . . .
blaring.]

Fuck the police. the police. Fuck 'em . . .

Surprise.
You're right.