Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

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

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

[Second
As I crept my hood it felt good,
All my homies have my with a gat in Hillwood,
is the hobby, brothers 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 shoulda put a bunk in da wood,
All stood, all good, they fucking bank if I take
What you got, but my I degrate,
You hate the way G's comin up a mic,
I write u like, 'cause it's my mothafucking life,
I never not to type, indeed I am,
But if tryin to take my ends,
I be bam bam to that man in the pen,
Older too young 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,
Straight the eightball,
Pour a little for the ones who took that fall,
'cause I all my dead homies in my heart,
They got a start, and still we never part.

[Third
I remember December of 88', boys hit the cut was
To late to break, Had to swallow stones tossed
My in the bushes, seven dirty pigs jackin' up
Three bushes, my homie got a tryin' to race the
Van, got scooped and to face the man,
In the black with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, my nigga seven in the slammer,
Damma, old mothafucka time,
All my frends gone guess I'm in line,
Betta me a new way to hustle,
Six years in the game and I feel the struggle,
Smuggle weed 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' and they wanna search my Caddi,
It's a risk when you tryin to that fast bank,
But them mutts can't smell my gas tank,
So I catch 59 to H-Town, arrive safely with my 38
Pounds, fresh from the border, may I your order,
You just want them every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)