Luyện nghe bài hát I'll Kill You

C]
Big Bow, 13
Big Bow, 13

C]
Another jam from the mind of the D
I put it down for the and the Central Coast Family
Some shit pounding out your box
A little something to bump when you're cooking them
We all got our own ways of the green
You do whatever it takes to get up the scene
I do what I do, staying true to the
Southside 13, about you fool?
Run and and get out your map
motherfuckers from the other side to the tracks
I never forgive and punk I never
It ain't over motherfuckers, no not yet
Move out of scene, I knew you would
I got motherfucking trick up my sleeve
Smoke you a roach, can I make it last?
Like a quick half ounce, another from the past
You're the kind of motherfucker talking bitch
I'm the kind of motherfucker the hit list
When I see you in the you better run and cover
'cause if I out my gat, I shoot to kill motherfucker

Rob]
It's the Rob
Known the mob 'cause I be dropping them hits
Giving it till you whores can't stand, giving it till your heart
It's open, hoping for chance
that fat hyna, it's ain't over till the hyna dance
Glance at a man no worries, full of teary
Riddle at me, loose, hang you fools from a
Then you up on fire, put away my lighter
Fuck the fucking Devil, I'm the one he admires
Inquiring minds want to
How the fuck we can be so fucking and quick to stick pussy
The cheif enemies got the
To make more than anybody in the pen with a felony
Now mad at me
I'm just glad we had the to be friendly before I killed you fucking family
Say understanding me, fool you ain't no man to me
Pulling crimes, thinking that you're gonna flatter me
I could give a fuck about what you're doing
I could give a fuck about what, who that you
you sick like the flu, I know how to spook you
All it takes is a bullet, you'll be shaking in your
What kind of death do you Homicide or suicide?
Circle one, me Gato 'cause the cat got your toungue
Ese young, 21, people saying that I'm
But the more shit that you talk, the more fun has
Leave your ass rung, let alone your ass
you up with my machete with my hockey mask on
Better yet paint my face up like Dead Presidents
In your neighborhood, but dead residents
When I get through with them, set up and have a brew with them
While the juras wondering what to do with
'cause there's so many of them, God must not have them
he let me do what I did, close their eye lids

[Mr.
Now who be batty, coming to diss my skills
It's that evil-minded demon, shoving fools under the
Motherfuckers try to run but they can hide, I find em
Putting the bullets in, hollow tips and I em
Shadow be that one bald-headed fool to bust
The man of who turns his rivals into fucking dust
I must admit to all the that I commited
All the fucking bodies and the craniums that I
I spitted many rhymes, I flipped so many
Take these fools into depressions the year of 95
Homicide got me
why I'm loading a clip
Motherfuckers trying to
They end up looking just like