Luyện nghe bài hát Krush Groove

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

I cut the brick and now we countin' the math, we that birdplay
My committed, you dudes gon' get it
Have a 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 done did it again
We got factors out in the ditch they smackin' a bitch
I got homies out in the Bronx where bustin' at cops
It ain't no game the underground, came from the underground

Pushin' a hundred thousand, we out the trunk, never
JT, another from the Bay
And rest in peace to my boy, Mac Dre, say nigga?
JT, another from the Bay
And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre,

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

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

Gimme a bad vibe end up on ya
Or you can get your back and side in back of ya ride
And I can make it happen, if I don't make it
lump of Satan, I'm packin' thrash 'em with a major passion

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

Listen, before I get up in the mornin' I ask the for strength
Tryin' to get my out the hood, you know how the forces get
like the devil got a hold of my neck
And I'm gettin' this change runnin' reppin' my set

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

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

Fuck what'chu heard, I your brain
I hit the spot like a [unverified] in and jeans
On some shit, more raw than Kane
It's not my fault she at me, you better talk to your dame

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

And in the hood you see it's different from one
your bloodline, play the strip to the sunshine
And I don't know why I'm wastin' my breath
I oughta be like Makaveli and be my death

I keep that shit it's tastin' so fresh
And all y'all sloppy Joe yo y'all makin' a mess
We on the way to yo' nap, so put tapes in the deck
And in a hundred bars straight without breakin' a sweat