Luyện nghe bài hát Krush Groove

We on our third song, we on our third song,
You understand it, I'm official with I'm double clutchin'
On the fo' wheel, pushin' quarters niggaz doin dope deals
Fo' cut 50 like a and a half

I cut the brick and now we countin' the math, we 'bout that
My crew's committed, you dudes get it
a seat you through when I'm finished, my troopers is fitted
Got 'em out in Brooklyn, Hollis Queens to the bridge

We in the studio the Figgaro done did it
We got out in the ditch where they smackin' a bitch
I got out in the Bronx where they bustin' at cops
It ain't no game with the underground, from the underground

Pushin' a hundred thousand, we out the trunk, browsin'
JT, another boss the Bay
And rest in to my boy, Mac Dre, what'chu say nigga?
JT, another from the Bay
And in peace to my boy Mac Dre, motherfucker

Hey, yo, it seem to me like got they own truth
Believe me I'm in sheets like phone booths
I the game I was born to score
But I'm a lil' too cute for them stores

A too, known to stand on the block
And a lil' too to sit in the spot
Mami, I'm from the Eastside, yup yes side
Heads fly if I open ya chest wide

Gimme a bad end up on ya backside
Or you can get your and side splatted in back of ya ride
And I can make it happen, if I make it rappin'
This lump of Satan, I'm packin' thrash 'em with a passion

I slash ya face and you flashin' in the latest fashion
And have you dashin' from all the way to Aspen
shit is whack, heard your tape and had to take an aspirin
Step ya up

Listen, I get up in the mornin' I ask the Lord for strength
Tryin' to get my niggaz out the hood, you how the forces get
It's the devil got a hold of my neck
And I'm this change runnin' 'round reppin' my set

Momma used to look at me funny she could her baby boy changed
Must be out there gettin' money
But it's a price for everything, you know how the go
For them birds niggaz'll cock back the

Now you introduced to the beef, what'chu do now?
Bitch up, in your crib, or pull them tools out?
A lot of niggaz is real, a lot of is fake
A lot of niggaz shake your hand and shake hands with

what'chu heard, I startled your brain
I hit the spot a [unverified] in ballers and jeans
On some eighty-eight shit, more raw Kane
It's not my fault she looked at me, you better talk to your

That's just, part of the game and you got
Who got nerve Lethal hard like Tupac words
And, why y'all chucks always actin' tough guys
You must be trippin' or you on mudslides

And in the hood you see different from one time
What's your bloodline, the strip to the sunshine
And I don't even know why I'm wastin' my
I oughta be like and be fakin' my death

I keep good shit it's tastin' so fresh
And all y'all sloppy Joe niggaz yo makin' a mess
We on the way to yo' nap, so put tapes in the deck
And spit in a hundred bars straight breakin' a sweat