Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

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

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

Verse]
As I crept through my it felt good,
All my homies have my with a gat in Hillwood,
Hustlin' is the hobby, if you will,
And all of hoes really love us on the Hill,
Be real if your blood runs in the hood,
All the punished woulda put a bunk 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 up with a mic,
I write u like, 'cause it's my mothafucking life,
I never not to type, indeed I am,
But if they to take my ends,
I be damn bam bam to man in the pen,
Older too young to get stung,
Come with the boys,
Hold the I show boys to precise to
from the skunk my blunt,
To be shoot dice hit killa,
Straight the eightball,
Pour a for the ones who took that great fall,
'cause I keeps all my homies in my heart,
They got a start, and still we never part.

[Third
I remember of 88', blue boys hit the cut was
To to break, Had to swallow three stones tossed
My Chrome in the bushes, dirty pigs jackin' up
Three bushes, my homie got a case to race the
Van, got scooped and fixin' to the man,
In the gown with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, give my nigga in the slammer,
Damma, old passin' time,
All my frends guess I'm last in line,
find me a new way to hustle,
Six years in the game and I still the struggle,
Smuggle across 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 they search my Caddi,
a risk when 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 the border, may I take your order,
You just them singled every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)