Luyện nghe bài hát Round Here

[Chorus: (Paul Wall)]
Guess it's a hood thing, woodgrain, grippin on the Friday*
My chain lookin the sun
turned way up, maybe 'cause I'm draped up, stay plush
I know where y'all came from
But that's how we do (that's-that's how we do it 'round here)
That's how we do it 'round (that's-that's how we do it 'round here)
That's how we do (that's-that's how we do it here)
That's how we do it here (that's-that's-that's-that's-that's how we do it 'round here)
how we do

[Verse 1: Wall]
Knock, knock, who is it? who come to pay a visit?
It's the Mr. Blizzard, with the "here lizard, lizard"
Flyer than a flock of pigeons, the earlobes are
But if you try to test, you'll get like a brisket
Last palace, fast livin, Guy like Peter Griffin
And my wallet is stuffed turkeys at Thanksgiving
I grind hard, my pockets full Easter Mass
Paper long, my stretchin like yoga class
"Get Money", yeah that's my task, I'm like a piece of trash
My wrists light up like camera flash while live in the past
But me and Koopa back on our mash Antoine to Ledbetter
Got paper than a mail shredder, 'cause 'round here we go getters

[Verse 2:
Chamillitary mayne, who knowin how I do, so it's time to turn up your tuner
With radio play or not, talk about me like a rumor (rumor)
And they hope my album will leak on the and come sooner (sooner)
I now renounce my throne as the King of
Hollywood, not true, been sick,
The inventors of the "what it do, " the Don Kings of the candy blue
We don't really mean to brag but we legends so act you knew
we one notch below Pimp and Screw but we (way higher than you)
I'm skatin, no Daytons, with Paul Wall to and (plate and)
Ya must've got us mistaken ain't no play-action fakin (fakin)
Earthquakin, trunk shakin (shakin), the realest in my and (say what?)
The me like I'm God, they be like As-Salamu Alaykum, so vacant

[Verse 3: Paul
'Round here the grind pays, it's all work and no
My pockets thick like Deltas and my Sprite's pink AKA's
Brace yourself, you'll be amazed, all haters can suck on
Me and Cham back in the game, I'm Reggie Bush, he's Drew
I run the mic and he's so throwed, now all the are quite pleased
'Cause they we fell off like dry scalp and bad weave
"Get Ya Correct" please, my wrist cold like winter breeze
'Cause I'm grindin up all night like kids on Christmas Eve
I keep the stacks on deck like a lawn
The give off a glare, so when ya stare, do so with care
'Round here we one hundred but them boys far it
I'm in the paper like the comics, how we do it 'round here