Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The is 7'0, October the fifth,
I done did my nine months now my take a shift,
In the freeworld now, you better 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 bolo for a dope to hit,
And I show no feeny if u want shit,
I'm as the sky, fishin' for fry,
Be a G the D-A-Y I die, oh my,
Why would u test this mex in a Lex just banging
Outta Tex, you know I'm gonna wreck shit,
with any other bitch who disrespect my clique,
Like a bit, I got the if a killa,
And them come out like a three wheela,
'cause I my draulics, fuckin' hoes in college,
Bitches on my nuts it's so stylish, Model it,
Hold my like a 64', peace to all my baby's mamas,
But though, I'm a damn fool,
And G's can vouch that, up in the puttin'
on a mouse 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 this mex in a Lex

Verse]
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 really love us on the Hill,
Be real if your blood deep in the hood,
All the punished woulda put a bunk in da wood,
All stood, all good, keep they fucking bank if I
What you got, but my I degrate,
You hate the way G's up with a mic,
I write what u like, 'cause my mothafucking life,
I never shife not to type, 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,
the noise I show boys to precise to
Fend the skunk my blunt,
To be nice shoot hit killa,
the mothafuckin eightball,
Pour a for the ones who took that great fall,
'cause I keeps all my homies in my heart,
got a head start, and still we never part.

[Third
I remember December of 88', boys hit the cut was
To late to break, Had to swallow three tossed
My in the bushes, seven dirty pigs jackin' up
Three bushes, my homie got a case tryin' to the
Van, got and fixin' to face the man,
In the black with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, my nigga seven in the slammer,
Damma, old passin' time,
All my frends gone I'm last 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' back and they search my Caddi,
It's a risk when you tryin to that fast bank,
But them mutts can't past my gas tank,
So I catch 59 back to H-Town, arrive with my 38
Pounds, fresh the border, may I take your order,
You want them singled every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)