Luyện nghe bài hát Round Here

[Chorus: (Paul Wall)]
Guess it's a hood thing, woodgrain, grippin on the Friday*
My lookin like the sun
Swag way up, maybe 'cause I'm draped up, stay plush
I don't where y'all came from
But just how we do (that's-that's how we do it 'round here)
how we do it 'round here (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 'round (that's-that's-that's-that's-that's how we do it 'round here)
how we do

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

[Verse 2:
Chamillitary mayne, who just 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 will leak on the streets and come sooner (sooner)
I now renounce my throne as the of Zamunda
Hollywood, not true, sick, ah-choo
The of the "what it do, " where the Don Kings of the candy blue
We really mean to brag but we legends so act like you knew
That we one notch below Pimp and Screw but we (way higher you)
I'm skatin, no Daytons, with Wall to plate and (plate and)
Ya got us mistaken 'cause ain't no play-action fakin (fakin)
Earthquakin, shakin (shakin), the realest in my state and (say what?)
The treat me like I'm God, be like As-Salamu Alaykum, so vacant

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