Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The year is 7'0, the fifth,
I done did my nine now my life take a shift,
In the freeworld now, you raised me good,
But instead I blaze in the 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 if u want some shit,
I'm as the sky, fishin' 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 with any other bitch who my clique,
Like a bit, I got the if a killa,
And them hoes come out like a wheela,
'cause I my draulics, fuckin' hoes in college,
Bitches swingin' on my nuts 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 vouch that, up in the ghetto
Cheese on a mouse trap, and one day I'm rise,
And come up, till then I'm dealin' dope from
To sunup.

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

Verse]
As I crept through my hood it good,
All my homies have my back a gat in Hillwood,
Hustlin' is the hobby, if you will,
And all of those really love us on the Hill,
Be real if your blood runs in the hood,
All the punished shoulda woulda put a in da wood,
All stood, all good, keep they bank if I take
you got, but my glock I degrate,
You hate the way G's comin up 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 damn bam bam to man in the pen,
boys too young to get stung,
Come with the boys,
Hold the I show 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 that great fall,
'cause I keeps all my dead in my heart,
They got a start, and still we never part.

[Third
I remember December of 88', boys hit the cut was
To to break, Had to swallow three stones tossed
My Chrome in the bushes, seven dirty jackin' up
bushes, my homie got a case tryin' to race the
Van, got scooped and fixin' to the man,
In the black with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, give my 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 back and they wanna search my Caddi,
It's a risk when you tryin to 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 them singled every and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)