Luyện nghe bài hát Heaven 4 A Gangsta (TRU Remix)

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

P]

Grew up in the raised by a killa
TRU across my
your neighborhood thug
to make it out this fucked up environment
Where niggaz die to make a dollar out of 15 cents
The ghetto got me
I daisies
But I can't die tonight my old pregnant with a baby
2Pac is there a heaven for a g
But I wonder if there's a place for killas and gangstas like me
Been fucked up for most my
done my soul to the devil
I hope I die in my sleep I its gonna be a 187
Ain't no turning back I'm strapped with 2 crome
I See death the corner
My time to go I'm ready
Cause I'm a soldier gone off douja
Aint no at my funeral I lived life to the fullest a high roller
So when I die put me in a box
Bury me like a g 2 glocks and a fucking bag of
And up clouds for a stranger
Before you take me Lord me

Just a young nigga addicted to fast cars fast money and bitches
Git me til its the mothafucking last nigga
Its gone be hard trying to get to cause my life is mostly marred
All I see is 2 levels and 187 sell a ??
So living and gang banging
You know just imaging be acting bad up there
if they had a for a gangsta
Block parties all til we get tired, free sex like the sixties
Nigga drinking up on some forties, 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 every nigga on the I know
will be living in mansions and old school
If I was to be the fucking president
I ride would be on some gold shoes
Is a heaven for a gangsta I can't wait
have some bitches crying trying to get into the gate

Is there a for a mothafucking gangsta ass nigga like me ( I doubt it)
niggaz like me down south (New Orleans) stay bout it
niggaz,
TRU
fill head with lead
I scared to die I'll smoke your ass like douja
is a must so I bust
Your ass be on the run I keep bullets up in my fucking gun
ask me why am I so sick,
its because of my
Full of murders and robbers, rehabilitated
Rest in peace to all my fucking niggaz that took the stand
Lord forgive me but I know I'm to hell man
I walk the streets with my converse, and my chrome gack
Pockets full of money and crack, heroin
I ever see the man upstairs I know my chances are slim
Cause God don't want no killas next to him
So I'm a and sell my D (dopeman)
But I wonder is there a for a gangsta nigga like me

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