Luyện nghe bài hát In My Neighborhood

Hey yo, Spice, what's goin' on,
I see five-O there, is that five-O?
Same muthafuckas that my partner down last week
But I ain't trippin', I got this 187 by my side
It's be on, is that right? Yeah
But where you stayin' at, man, goin' on?
Same neighborhood, man
tryin' to get this shit off the ground
This rap thing, you Yeah, I heard that shit, man
Let them niggas know what it is, yeah, check it

I to walk around my hood, smokin' dank a lot
I see some brothers in the trees, is slingin' rocks?
Runnin' through a broken-down wooden
A didn't have brains 'cause he smoked sinse

Or sess, or whatever you call it, he got the task on his ass
Better haul it, fiends suckin' up the crack in the
Dropped a on the ground, now he's lookin' hard
Will he keep searchin' or he cease and just forget the hit?

Or pull a jack and let the nine click, I'm in the cut, late night
About 12 O'clock, I see some bustin' caps in a parking lot
There go my rollin' up in a black 'Vette
Nothin' but the for the paycheck

"Another day, another up in the alleyway"
That's the boys in the Bay up in Cali say
The California life, task in the palm
Brothers be clockin' G's, slingin' up in my neighborhood

In my
In my, in my, in my
In my

Funk, is a of my life
the sound of the gangster Spice
Warning, check out the blast of a
Nine muthafuckin' millimeter, one or two or three or four

'Cause every in my hood is hardcore
to the death of a cop, pop-pop-pop, see another one drop
Crazy-ass off the peppermint schnapps
And now you wonder why young sling hop?

Never woulda I'd be a dealer of dope
Niggas slingin' and bangin' and necks and throats
The spot, it was poppin', but yet the fuzz kept ridin' my
Tick-tock, I watch the clock, they

See a undercover cop raise off the
That's how it is in the game of slingin'
'Cause on the TV they make it look good
But Mr. Rogers ain't got on my niggas up in the neighborhood

In my
In my, in my, in my
In my

Welcome to the ghetto, although I it my neighborhood
people get out, but some people stay for good
I see a yellin' he's a O.G.
He scratched his head and starin' like he knows me

I say, "What up, old man, I your face before"
It was my homie's pops, shirt dirty, pants
He had a 40 in his hand, left a swallow
He said, "Young-ass nigga," and he threw the bottle

I ducked down, and I had to real fast
Stepped two feet back, and I banked his ass
I started kickin' and my nigga's brains out
I heard a bitch yell "Freeze" and out the house

It was his wife, and the bitch started at me
I can't believe this shit, bitch is trigger-happy
out my nine, bust the bitch in the left titty
That's how it is in a burned-out dopefiend
And now you're sayin' I'm the up to no good
If gives a fuck if you're Bush, you get up in my neighborhood

In my
In my, in my, in my
In my