Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The is 7'0, October 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 three when my pops took a vacation,
Now I'm facin' the revlation,
Gotta bolo for a dope 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 test this mex in a Lex just banging
Tex, you know I'm gonna 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 a three wheela,
'cause I freaks my draulics, fuckin' in college,
Bitches on my nuts it's so stylish, Model it,
Hold my dick 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 ghetto
on a mouse trap, and one day I'm gonna rise,
And come up, till then I'm dealin' dope from
To sunup.

Off the hills, of hillwood, Texas(x3)
You best not 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 shoulda woulda put a bunk in da wood,
All stood, all good, they fucking bank if I take
What you got, but my I degrate,
You the way G's comin up with a mic,
I write what u like, 'cause my mothafucking life,
I shife not to type, indeed I am,
But if they tryin to my ends,
I be damn bam bam to man in the pen,
boys too young to get stung,
Come the holy boys,
Hold the noise I boys to precise to
Fend the skunk my blunt,
To be shoot dice hit killa,
the mothafuckin eightball,
Pour a for the ones who took that great fall,
'cause I keeps all my dead in my heart,
They got a head start, and we never part.

[Third
I December of 88', blue boys hit the cut was
To late to break, Had to three stones tossed
My Chrome in the bushes, seven dirty pigs 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 guess I'm in line,
find me a new way to hustle,
Six years in the and I still feel the struggle,
weed across 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' back and they wanna my Caddi,
It's a risk when you tryin to make fast bank,
But mutts can't 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 them singled every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)