Luyện nghe bài hát Iatola

1]
I'm meetin up with the
3-2 and the Hustla
Comin straight out the head
From the brain my ghetto
Its a how they die young
In the hood in my Cadillac flyer, thru the
Wit my Iatola in the Clover
Pink soda of a noter
on my shoulder slang coca
20 g'z on my team
marijuana in the sauna
While my niggas dope on the corner
V-12 motor loca
Now your trying to give me her panocha
Fat sweet roller in my
And my girl called the cops I choked her
Cabana thankin Santa
For the keyboard that wit the sampler
up the Clarion wit the stelly on
She wit me I am the champion

2]
Its the ol story though
died 'cause he fucked wit the wrong hoe
Its the sign of the man
By thank God that I'm alive man
Peace to my g's
Fell short trying to stack up benjis
In the and the fog
Boys squab
All on my like corn on the cob
You aint but a job for one of my killers
How many niggas die by the trigga
Im a sipper ima swerver first murder
Smoke a fried stick and get than a surfer
No reversing my nature 90 on my pager
I dont love you I dont hate you but I will you
In the gutter for the of it
Gangsta chuggin shit candy on my mothership
And they can suck a dick

3]
So this what it came to yall the same
Old friends niggas claim blue
But I dont I claim no color
She lost her son what if that was your
I sit back in my '92 'Lac
And I support like LULAC
I went to Alma in second ward offa
That was when niggas jammin to Pee Wee Herman
Smokin with my but not the preacher
I fuckin Liz on the bleachers
1986 making hits
I was chasing having bad relationships
Now I fuck Asian bitches fine Haitian
Romanian Italian some fucking bang
I went from to rich and I remain malicious
Shoot em up and leave em laying in some positions