Luyện nghe bài hát Ghetto

[Intro:
Yo, yo, yo, turn me up, me up
Turn me up, me up, yeah, yeah, come on
Yeah, yeah, yeah, everything, yeah
Yeah, real shit, real shit, Raekwon
All day, go, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo

[Marlena "Woman of the Ghetto" sample]

I was born and raised, in the
I was born and raised, in the
I was and raised, in the ghetto
Listen to me, and lay up

Park Hill Projects, one pound
Holding it down, the motto, 'lo goose and lottos
on the regular, O.G. style
I'm into old V's, in cabs, slinging them OZ's
All I know is running in labs, hitting the green bags
Visualizing in the green Jag's
Wait til I get on, the haters hate it
In this corner, a young don with a crisp lab

[Marlena Shaw "Woman of the Ghetto"

Brother, to me
Brother, to me
Listen to me, and lay up
How do you make your bread in the
How do you make your in the ghetto?

Hustling, & flow
We make bread in the ghetto, by selling that
See niggas make bread by busting the gat
Might stick a up, stab him dead in his back
It's a dirty bread game, but we get through them
game, rather have bread than fame
Some sell and weed, it ain't no joke
Might sell anything as as we not broke
So if you getting bread, we be coming for your throat
It's crazy what a might do for the bread
Might violate parole til ya is dead
We get bread in the ghetto, while we the feds
I heard bread in the ghetto got a loaf on his head, on

[Marlena "Woman of the Ghetto" sample]
Brother, to me
Brother, to me
to me, and just lay up
How do you get rid of in the ghetto?

Killah]
Yo, yo, aiyo we ox 'em, duff 'em, stuff 'em in bags
Torture them, toss 'em out the with rift rafts
Cuz we take kindly to rats in the ghetto
Either your mouth stay shut or get with the metal
Big fat get fried like porkchops for snitching
Get ass hung like a wall clock
It's Tone Stark, Billy the Kid the gun bark
A wire out his shirt, he talking to NARC!

[Marlena "Woman of the Ghetto" sample]

How do you raise kids in the ghetto?
How do you raise kids in the ghetto?
Feed one child and starve
Tell me, tell me, and lay up

We like brothers, we from the same mothers
In the projects, the same covers
Wore the same drawers, the same whores
Rolled dice, rhymes, did crimes in the same hall
Sprayed our names on the same
Yo, your kids knew my kids, wiz knew my wiz
Now you caught up in and showbiz
If that's what it is, then what it is
Run up in crib, with twelve black brothers
digest to live, die just to live
Some called us martyrs, some called us
Run up in the club like the suicide
We be the brothers, ready lovers
Never see us, blow, we not others
Somewhere in the competition, got lost
The money got flipped, your tables got
Now you all caught up in that talk
Brain dead in the grain of
With a and a game that can change New York
We ate from the same fork, pop had the same thought