Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The year is 7'0, the fifth,
I done did my nine months now my life a shift,
In the freeworld now, you better me good,
But I blaze in the crazy hood,
I was three my pops took a long vacation,
Now I'm facin' the revlation,
Gotta for a dope fiend to hit,
And I no feeny if u want some shit,
I'm high as the sky, for fry,
Be a G the D-A-Y I die, oh my,
Why would u ever test this mex in a Lex just
Outta Tex, you know I'm wreck this shit,
Along with any bitch who disrespect my clique,
a bit, I got the heart if a killa,
And them hoes come out like a wheela,
'cause I freaks my draulics, hoes in college,
swingin' on my nuts it's so stylish, Model it,
Hold my dick like a 64', to all my baby's mamas,
But though, I'm a damn fool,
And G's can vouch that, up in the ghetto
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 test mex in a Lex

[Second
As I through 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 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 they fucking 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 shife not to type, indeed I am,
But if tryin to take my ends,
I be damn bam bam to man in the pen,
Older too young to get stung,
with the holy boys,
Hold the noise I show to precise to
Fend the skunk my blunt,
To be nice dice hit killa,
Straight the eightball,
Pour a little for the ones who took that fall,
I keeps all my dead homies in my heart,
They got a start, and still we never part.

[Third
I December 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 tryin' to race the
Van, got scooped and fixin' to the man,
In the gown with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, my nigga seven in the slammer,
Damma, old passin' time,
All my frends guess 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,
Just 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 when you tryin to make that fast bank,
But them mutts smell past my gas tank,
So I catch 59 back to H-Town, arrive with my 38
Pounds, fresh from the border, may I take order,
You just want them every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)