Luyện nghe bài hát Represent

G'yeah, how we gon' get on this (Westside)
Uh, my homey Bird in the (N-O-T-R in the house)
I said da in the house (There's pork in the house)
MC Eiht in the house,
And this how we gettin (The new style in the house)
To the West, my Gz, to the
To your chest, my Gz, to chest

We it down
from block to block, to scale town
From crooked cops to, dope spots, all
Uhh, hot poles to six folds of
Hood's tight Fort Knox, runnin thru military
Attitudes, don't try it, Tek 9's
AK's, be stored in a riot
as kept, we creep, put you to sleep
No bull-essin, dirty ass Mac keep spittin
Killers they *?that they ass?*
Punk one-times to my homey Tiny T's battle ground
187's, is for the paper
No ..... kiddin, caps get in the city
E's you the bomba
Ragtops we sell, oh, from to Alandra
Cruisin in my wit Eazy-E
smokin, tryin ta dash from the C-P-D
Do or die for the wicked Westside, who's the
Fake the as I pound it on my chest
Compton is we do it all day
G'yeah, bitch, oh why you come my
"Get Revenge" is the
Crack sacks to, pull jacksta, down St.Ives

G'yeah on, uhh
To the West, my Gz, to the
(Uhh, g'yeah, it down for 9-6)

Homies, county bound, wit the hot 9's
slam my face to the ground
Hot can you set you up
Hollow points, hit the car when, them Compton Gz
(Who) stand my definition?
Murders I wrote, gats I tote, is my day mission
get caught up in the rapture
Wit the murderous styles they after
Young guns, to keep it pumpin, gots ta leave sockin
Keep dem 9 mill's
No place is this place I dwell, cross every
House Compton mates
Tossed get torn
1-5-9, I represents us the day I was
been my destiny
Blast to the so they won't get the best of me
To make a big fat (grip)
of the, sunshine, Tek 9, we steady dip
Come test me, don't wanna do it, I keeps it
.44 Mag will keep you stumpin
We again
killers from the C-O-M-P-T-O-N
I'm

G'yeah, (Where we goin?)
To the West, my Gz, to the (To where?)
Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to your (So waddup?)
To the West, my Gz, uhh
Compton all day, all day
G'yeah (come on, uhh, on, uhh)

Our "Do or Die", we specialise in
hittin and dumpin fools in ditches
If it's on, it's on,
Player hatin, run your like a poem
Put down like James Brown, I got'cha
Hey fool, I ya
Domes get on platters
Hot heat from under the seat, fools you better
My Uzi a tonne
and claimin Compton from, g'yeah, day one
Sometimes I got to God
for puttin me in the middle of the land, where homies and sqwuab
For life, Compton for and not for this rap
Stay true to the streets, so Gz get it
It just got to be way
For my Gz that's, why
around, to put the buck down
Compton 24/7, g'yeah, the hell down
We clown on the
Others try and the West but they must be crazy
I'm

(Hey, come on)
To the West, my Gz, to the
Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to your
And we ain't no names, uhh
Compton, uhh,
em down, buck em down
em, brrrgh, uhh