Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The year is 7'0, the fifth,
I done did my nine months now my take a shift,
In the now, you better raised me good,
But instead I blaze in the hood,
I was three my pops took a long vacation,
Now I'm solo the revlation,
Gotta bolo for a fiend to hit,
And I no feeny if u want some shit,
I'm high as the sky, for fry,
Be a G till the I die, oh my,
Why would u test this mex in a Lex just banging
Outta Tex, you know I'm wreck this shit,
Along with any other who disrespect my clique,
a bit, I got the heart if a killa,
And hoes come out like a three wheela,
I freaks my draulics, fuckin' hoes in college,
Bitches on my nuts it's so stylish, Model it,
Hold my dick like a 64', to all my baby's mamas,
But really though, I'm a fool,
And G's can that, up in the ghetto puttin'
Cheese on a mouse trap, and one day I'm rise,
And come up, till then I'm dealin' from sundown
To sunup.

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

[Second
As I crept through my hood it good,
All my have my back with a gat in Hillwood,
Hustlin' is the hobby, if you will,
And all of those hoes love us on the Hill,
Be if your blood runs deep in the hood,
All the punished shoulda woulda put a in da wood,
All stood, all good, keep they fucking bank if I
What you got, but my I degrate,
You the way G's comin up with a mic,
I write what u like, 'cause my mothafucking 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,
Older boys too to get stung,
Come with the boys,
Hold the noise I boys to precise to
Fend from the my blunt,
To be nice shoot hit killa,
the mothafuckin eightball,
Pour a little for the ones who took great fall,
'cause I keeps all my dead in my heart,
They got a head start, and we never part.

[Third
I December of 88', blue boys hit the cut was
To late to break, Had to swallow three stones
My Chrome in the bushes, dirty pigs jackin' up
Three bushes, my got a case tryin' to race the
Van, got scooped and fixin' to the man,
In the black with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, my nigga seven in the slammer,
Damma, old mothafucka time,
All my gone guess I'm last in line,
Betta me a new way to hustle,
Six years in the game and I still the struggle,
Smuggle across the checkpoint,
another day on the job as I mob but the pigs oink,
Smoke a on the way to the valley,
Now I'm comin' back and wanna search my Caddi,
It's a risk you tryin to make that fast bank,
But mutts can't smell past my gas tank,
So I catch 59 back to H-Town, safely with my 38
Pounds, fresh from the border, may I take order,
You just want singled every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)