Luyện nghe bài hát Locos

?]
Orale
las pilas gwey?..
Este vato tiene un chingo de
Listo !? es la mascara
Vamonos. dale

[Verse 1: B-Real & Sen
and four, and three, and two, and one
And we through the door with the quickness up
for the crop, and I heard you pussies talk about
Don't try nothin', if you me to the [?]
Don't say a word, be over, suicide
[?] smoked out, where the (cash? in the room)
and four, and three, and two, and one
That's how many seconds left before ass is done (click-clack)
Now you heard the sound, me somethin' new
This here won't hesitate to put a hole in you
(Death threat, get your ass up), a good boy
you rather put the cameras out for your [?]
Don't even think about the up in your backpack
Cooperative when I leave you're alive
In fact, I only want your cash crop, not your life
(you can get [?] crop), but not life back
So settle down, I don't wanna let the metal
Lead the way, give it up and live day
Trees and sacks, backpack of cash, out the door
Hit the ride, hear my screechin' in the back

Sick Jacken]

[?]

[?]

[Verse 2: & Sen Dog]
and dough, and hoes, and hit and run
As we graspin' for with our pockets full
down the plot, blueprints for another pull
Smokin' up the spot I quit, we're invincible
Jack your spot and we your shit and run
Got my eye on my [?], just around the way
Searchin' for the dogs, no guards, so it's down to
Judgin' by the odds we can hit it and lets
[?] we come
Grippin' site
it to other heights
Homie, go around the
Go in when I the lights
Sack up
mean nothin' with a fuckin' knife
and four, and three, and two, and one
Now we in the buildin', take it all until done
Fifty pounds, smell it all around, yeah we up
pickin', don't be tellin' hoes, leave fucked up

[Chorus: Sick