Luyện nghe bài hát Ghetto

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

[Marlena Shaw "Woman of the Ghetto"

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 Projects, one eight pound
it down, that's the motto, 'lo goose and lottos
Blunts on the regular, O.G.
I'm into old V's, swinging in cabs, slinging them
All I know is running in fiends labs, the green bags
Visualizing in the green Jag's
til I get on, the haters gonna hate it
In this corner, a rich young don a crisp lab

[Marlena "Woman of the Ghetto" sample]

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

Hustling, & flow
We make bread in the ghetto, by selling crack
See niggas that bread by busting the gat
Might stick a nigga up, him dead in his back
It's a dirty bread game, but we get through them
Bread game, rather have than fame
Some sell pills and weed, it ain't no
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 til ya family is dead
We get in the ghetto, while we ducking the feds
I heard in the ghetto got a loaf on his head, come 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 rats in the

[Ghostface
Yo, yo, we ox 'em, duff 'em, stuff 'em in black bags
Torture them, toss 'em out the window with rafts
Cuz we take kindly to rats in the ghetto
Either mouth stay shut or get slapped with the metal
Big fat rats get fried like for snitching
Get ass hung like a wall clock
Tone Stark, Billy the Kid when the gun bark
A sticking out his shirt, he talking to NARC!

[Marlena "Woman of the Ghetto" sample]

How do you raise your kids in the
How do you raise your kids in the
Feed one child and another
Tell me, tell me, and lay up

We like brothers, we came from the mothers
In the projects, the same covers
the same drawers, fucked the same whores
Rolled dice, kicked rhymes, did crimes in the same
Sprayed our names on the same
Yo, your kids knew my kids, your wiz my wiz
Now you caught up in and showbiz
If that's what it is, that's what it is
Run up in crib, with twelve black brothers
That'll digest to live, die to live
Some called us martyrs, some called us
Run up in the club like the bombers
We be the brothers, ready lovers
wanna see us, blow, we not others
Somewhere in the competition, got lost
The money got flipped, tables got crossed
Now you all caught up in label talk
Brain in the grain of thoughts
a name and a game that can change New York
We ate the same fork, pop had the same thought [echo]