Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The is 7'0, October the fifth,
I did my nine months now my life take a shift,
In the freeworld now, you raised me good,
But instead I in the crazy hood,
I was three when my took a long vacation,
Now I'm solo 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 till the I die, oh my,
Why would u ever test mex in a Lex just banging
Outta Tex, you know I'm gonna wreck shit,
Along with any other who disrespect my clique,
a bit, I got the heart if a killa,
And them hoes out like a three wheela,
'cause I freaks my draulics, fuckin' in college,
swingin' 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 that, up in the ghetto puttin'
Cheese on a 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 not test this mex in a Lex

[Second
As I crept through my hood it good,
All my homies have my with a gat in Hillwood,
Hustlin' is the hobby, if you will,
And all of those hoes really us on the Hill,
Be real if blood runs deep in the hood,
All the punished shoulda woulda put a 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 what u like, 'cause it's my mothafucking life,
I never shife not to type, I am,
But if they tryin to my ends,
I be bam bam to that man in the pen,
Older boys too to get stung,
with the holy boys,
Hold the noise I show boys to to
Fend from the my blunt,
To be nice dice hit killa,
Straight the eightball,
Pour a little for the who took that great fall,
'cause I all my dead homies in my heart,
They got a head start, and still we part.

[Third
I remember of 88', blue boys hit the cut was
To late to break, Had to swallow stones tossed
My Chrome in the bushes, seven pigs jackin' up
bushes, my homie got a case tryin' to race the
Van, got and fixin' to face the man,
In the black gown the wooden hammer,
Bamma, give my nigga in the slammer,
Damma, old mothafucka time,
All my frends gone I'm last in line,
find 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,
a joint on the way to the valley,
Now I'm comin' back and wanna search my Caddi,
It's a risk when you tryin to make fast bank,
But them mutts can't smell my gas tank,
So I 59 back to H-Town, arrive safely 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)