Luyện nghe bài hát Heaven 4 a Gangsta

Is a heaven for a gangsta gangsta gangsta ughh 2x
Is there a heaven for a

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Grew up in the ghetto raised by a
Tru my stomach
Your neighborhood nigga
Trying to make it out fucked up environment
Where die trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents
The got me crazy
I smell
But I can't die tonight my old lady pregnant a baby
2pac said is there a for a g
But I wonder if there's a place for killas and gangstas like me
Been fucked up for my life
Done my soul to the devil
I I die in my sleep I know it's gonna be a 187
Ain't no turning back I'm with 2 crome gacks
I see around the corner
My to go I'm ready black
I'm a soldier gone off that douja
Aint no at my funeral I lived life to the fullest a high roller
So I die put me in a pine box
Bury me like a g 2 glocks and a bag of rocks
And open up clouds for a
Before you take me tell me

Just a young addicted to fast cars fast money and fast bitches
Git me blasting til it's the last nigga
Its gone be hard trying to get to heaven cause my life is marred
All I see is 2 and 187 sell a nigga ? ?
So living gangstafied and gang
You know imaging niggaz be acting bad up there
If they had a for a gangsta
Block parties all days til we get tired, free sex like the
Nigga up on some forties, nigga pumping up on some swishies
Dice every hour
For the gangstas and power
Rewards for niggaz that's it
Extra time for busters and
Cause nigga on the block I know
Will be in mansions and riding old school
If I was born to be the president
Everythin I ride be on some gold shoes
Is there a heaven for a gangsta I can't
Even have some bitches crying trying to get into the

Is there a heaven for a gangsta ass nigga like me ( I doubt it)
Cause like me down south (new orleans) stay bout it
niggaz,
Tru
your head with lead
I ain't scared to die I'll smoke ass like douja
is a must so I bust
Your ass be on the run I can't bullets up in my fucking gun
ask me why am I so sick,
Its of my click
Full of murders and robbers, convicts
Rest in peace to all my fucking dead that took the stand
Lord me but I know I'm going to hell man
I walk the streets my converse, khakies and my chrome gack
Pockets full of money and crack, heroin
Will I ever see the man upstairs I my chances are slim
Cause God want no killas standing next to him
So I'm a hustle and my d (dopeman)
But I wonder is there a heaven for a nigga like me

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