Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The is 7'0, October the fifth,
I done did my months now my life take a shift,
In the freeworld now, you raised me good,
But I blaze in the crazy hood,
I was three when my took a long vacation,
Now I'm facin' the revlation,
Gotta for a dope fiend to hit,
And I show no if u want some shit,
I'm as the sky, fishin' for fry,
Be a G the D-A-Y I die, oh my,
Why would u ever test this mex in a Lex just
Outta Tex, you know I'm wreck this shit,
Along with any other who disrespect my clique,
Like a bit, I got the if a killa,
And them hoes come out a three wheela,
I freaks my draulics, fuckin' hoes in college,
Bitches on my nuts it's so stylish, Model it,
my dick like a 64', peace to all my baby's mamas,
But though, I'm a damn fool,
And G's can that, up in the ghetto puttin'
Cheese on a trap, and one day I'm gonna rise,
And come up, till I'm dealin' dope from sundown
To sunup.

Off the hills, of hillwood, Texas(x3)
You best not test mex in a Lex

[Second
As I crept my hood it felt good,
All my homies my back with a gat in Hillwood,
is the hobby, brothers if you will,
And all of those hoes love us on the Hill,
Be real if your blood deep in the hood,
All the punished shoulda woulda put a in da wood,
All stood, all good, keep fucking bank if I take
What you got, but my I degrate,
You hate the way G's comin up a mic,
I write what u like, 'cause it's my life,
I never shife not to type, I am,
But if they to take my ends,
I be bam bam to that man in the pen,
boys too young to get stung,
Come with the boys,
Hold the noise I show to precise to
Fend from the my blunt,
To be nice dice hit killa,
Straight the eightball,
Pour a little for the ones who that great fall,
'cause I all my dead homies in my heart,
They got a head start, and still we part.

[Third
I December of 88', blue boys hit the cut was
To late to break, Had to swallow three tossed
My Chrome in the bushes, seven dirty pigs up
bushes, my homie got a case tryin' to race the
Van, got scooped and to face the man,
In the gown with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, give my seven in the slammer,
Damma, old mothafucka time,
All my gone guess I'm last in line,
find me a new way to hustle,
Six in the game and I still feel the struggle,
Smuggle weed the checkpoint,
Just another day on the job as I mob but the oink,
Smoke a on the way to the valley,
Now I'm comin' back and wanna search my Caddi,
It's a risk when you to make that fast bank,
But them mutts smell past my gas tank,
So I catch 59 back to H-Town, arrive with my 38
Pounds, fresh from the border, may I your order,
You just want them singled every and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)