Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The is 7'0, October the fifth,
I done did my nine months now my life a shift,
In the freeworld now, you raised me good,
But I blaze in the crazy hood,
I was three when my pops a long vacation,
Now I'm solo the revlation,
bolo for a dope fiend to hit,
And I no feeny if u want some shit,
I'm as the sky, fishin' for fry,
Be a G the D-A-Y I die, oh my,
Why would u ever test mex in a Lex just banging
Tex, you know I'm gonna wreck this shit,
Along with any other bitch who my clique,
a bit, I got the heart if a killa,
And them hoes come out a three wheela,
'cause I my draulics, fuckin' hoes in college,
Bitches on my nuts it's so stylish, Model it,
my dick 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'
Cheese on a mouse trap, and one day I'm rise,
And come up, till then I'm dealin' from sundown
To sunup.

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

[Second
As I crept through my it felt good,
All my homies my back with a gat in Hillwood,
is the hobby, brothers if you will,
And all of those hoes love us on the Hill,
Be if your blood runs deep in the hood,
All the punished shoulda woulda put a in da wood,
All stood, all good, keep fucking bank if I take
What you got, but my I degrate,
You the way G's comin up with a mic,
I write u like, 'cause it's my mothafucking life,
I shife not to type, indeed I am,
But if they to take my ends,
I be bam bam to that man in the pen,
Older too young to get stung,
Come with the boys,
Hold the I show boys to precise to
Fend the skunk my blunt,
To be shoot 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 head start, and still we part.

[Third
I December of 88', blue boys hit the cut was
To to break, Had to swallow three stones tossed
My in the bushes, seven dirty pigs jackin' up
Three bushes, my homie got a case tryin' to the
Van, got scooped and to face the man,
In the gown with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, give my seven in the slammer,
Damma, old passin' time,
All my frends guess I'm last in line,
find me a new way to hustle,
Six years in the game and I still 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' and they wanna search my Caddi,
It's a risk when you tryin to make that bank,
But them mutts can't past my gas tank,
So I catch 59 back to H-Town, arrive safely my 38
Pounds, fresh from the border, may I take order,
You just want singled every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)