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

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Grew up in the raised by a killa
TRU across my
neighborhood thug nigga
Trying to make it out this fucked up
Where niggaz die trying to make a dollar out of 15
The ghetto got me
I smell
But I die tonight my old lady pregnant with a baby
2Pac said is a heaven for a g
But I if there's a resting place for killas and gangstas like me
fucked up for most my life
done sold my soul to the
I I die in my sleep I know its 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
Cause I'm a soldier gone off that
Aint no crying at my funeral I lived to the fullest a high roller
So when I die put me in a box
Bury me like a g 2 and a fucking bag of rocks
And open up clouds for a
Before you me Lord tell me

Just a young nigga addicted to fast cars fast and fast bitches
Git me blasting til its the last nigga
Its be hard trying to get to heaven cause my life is mostly marred
All I see is 2 levels and 187 a nigga ??
So living gangstafied and gang
You know just imaging niggaz be acting bad up
if had a heaven for a gangsta
Block parties all days til we get tired, free sex the sixties
drinking up on some forties, nigga pumping up on some swishies
Dice game every
For the gangstas money and
Rewards for niggaz bout it
Extra for busters and cowards
every nigga on the block I know
will be living in mansions and riding old
If I was to be the fucking president
everythin I ride be on some gold shoes
Is a heaven for a gangsta I can't wait
Even some bitches crying trying to get into the gate

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
fill head with lead
I ain't scared to die I'll smoke your ass like
Retaliation is a must so I
ass be on the run I can't keep bullets up in my fucking gun
ask me why am I so sick,
its of my click
of murders and robbers, rehabilitated convicts
Rest in peace to all my fucking dead that took the stand
Lord forgive me but I I'm going to hell man
I walk the streets my converse, khakies 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 want no killas standing next to him
So I'm a hustle and my D (dopeman)
But I wonder is there a for a gangsta nigga like me

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