Luyện nghe bài hát In My Neighborhood

Hey yo, Spice, what's on, man?
I see over there, is that five-O?
Same muthafuckas that beat my partner down week
But I trippin', I got this 187 Proof by my side
It's finna be on, is that Yeah
But where you at, man, what's goin' on?
muthafuckin' neighborhood, man
Just to get this shit off the ground
This rap thing, you know? Yeah, I heard shit, man
Let them niggas know time it is, yeah, check it

I like to around my hood, smokin' dank a lot
I see some in the trees, is they slingin' rocks?
Runnin' a broken-down wooden fence
A nigga didn't have brains 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 pebble on the ground, now lookin' hard
Will he keep searchin' or will he cease and just forget the

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

"Another day, dead up in the alleyway"
That's what the boys in the Bay up in say
The California life, in the palm trees
Brothers be G's, slingin' KI's up in my neighborhood

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

Funk, is a part of my
It's the sound of the Spice
Warning, check out the of a shotgun
muthafuckin' millimeter, have one or two or three or four

'Cause every brother in my is hardcore
Boom-boom to the 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 thought I'd be a dealer of dope
Niggas slingin' and bangin' and necks and throats
The spot, it was poppin', but yet the kept ridin' my jock
Tick-tock, I watch the clock, flock

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

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

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

I say, "What up, old man, I your face before"
It was my pops, shirt dirty, pants tore
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 shit, this bitch is trigger-happy
Pull out my nine, bust the in the left titty
That's how it is in a dopefiend city
And now you're sayin' I'm the up to no good
If gives a if you're Bush, you get jacked up in my neighborhood

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