Luyện nghe bài hát Killa Klan

Killa (8x)
Chorus: Klan Repeated North Memphis, South Memphis, ATL, Chicago
(cities for each chorus)

J]
Late last nite, I was in the bed, red
Thinkin' about project pat, and what the fuckin jury
Givin' him what they him, then they put him in handcuffs
dem laws, I'ma make you put yo hands up
Don't the line, yellow take the police brand up
the court, Norf Memphis and we klanned up
I can be a leader, bring the heata, a farakhan
I can be a terroist to the government a taliban
Long as ya black, and ya wrist they put they on
Watchin' niggas every move, tappin' niggas phones
Don't, Fall, for the okay, Don't, Call, and I'll the dope
And we gon' smoke we till the break of
in this hood where there ain't no motherfuckin bon
And to that officer I know your stompin' ground
But If you ain't from my hood, get yo ass from round

(2X)

[Crunchy
First I'm gonna catch the
Then I'm gonna beat the
I'm gonna bury bitch
Shouldn't of been talkin'
You who you was fuckin wit
Fuckin wit the best
She who you been
Now I'm at yo chest
This goes out to all of
All of be talkin' shit
Slip the up in the gun
commence to bust a nig
Bust a nig, at ya
Watchin' you niggas
out like a bitch
Mane that's some petty shit

Infamous]
I'm blood baths, I don't, fine I'll punch ya
I'ma hit yo ass wit the rocket launcher
Can you stand the pain, insane, bounty
long, see ya pulp, till ya unconscious
Throw you in the dumpsta, catch a conquer
Lord don't, play jump up, if ya want ta
is the unda, buried by yo momma
Not only do I mane I also am bomb ya

(2x)

J]
Picture this, you a and you on the stand
And you the judge the life of a black man
Young brotha from the made it rappin' and
Wit a knot in his weighin least a grand
Here's the he got caught wit some fire arms
By a ass cop wit his siren awn
He was known as a felon made it than state
The whole turned fed made him lose his faith
Picture this, now the judge he got hatred for
ten years ago he was appointed by bush
Republican white man, and he don't a fuck
If the guns his that was found in his truck
Prosecutors, lawyers, mane who can you trust
All this palm greasy shit, mane it's than us
Make you wanna be like it hit the trunk of the car
it was time for the jury to star

Killa (fade out)

RIP jesse deane