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 foes in the (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 your

We it down
from to block, to scale this town
From crooked to, dope spots, all around
Uhh, hot poles to six of strawberries
tight like Fort Knox, runnin thru military
Attitudes, don't try it, Tek 9's
AK's, will be in a riot
Quiet as kept, we creep, put you to
No bull-essin, dirty ass Mac 11's keep
they cheat *?that they ass?*
Punk one-times gaffle to my homey Tiny T's ground
187's, 211's is for the
No ..... kiddin, caps get peeled in the
E's bringin you the
Ragtops we sell, oh, from Compton to
Cruisin in my wit Eazy-E
smokin, tryin ta dash from the C-P-D
Do or die for the Westside, who's the best?
Fake the as I pound it on my chest
is where we do it all day
G'yeah, bitch, oh why you come my
"Get Revenge" is the
Crack sacks to, jacksta, down St.Ives bottles

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

Homies, we're bound, wit the hot 9's
One-time my face to the ground
Hot can you set you up
Hollow points, hit the car when, them Gz bust
(Who) stand my definition?
Murders I wrote, gats I tote, is my day mission
Kids get up in the rapture
Wit the styles that they after
Young guns, dumpin to keep it pumpin, ta leave sockin
dem 9 mill's rockin
No is this place I dwell, cross every states
Compton cell mates
Tossed souls get
1-5-9, I represents us the day I was
Musta my destiny
Blast to the face so won't get the best of me
To a big fat grip (grip)
Land of the, sunshine, Tek 9, we dip
Come test me, don't wanna do it, I it jumpin
.44 Mag definitely keep you stumpin
We again
Them 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 chest (So waddup?)
To the West, my Gz, uhh
all day, Compton all day
G'yeah (come on, uhh, on, uhh)

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

G'yeah (Hey, on)
To the West, my Gz, to the
Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to chest
And we sayin no names, uhh
Compton, uhh,
Buck em down, em down
em, brrrgh, uhh