Luyện nghe bài hát Serial Killa

Six ways to die, choose one

It's time to escape, but I don't where the fuck I'm headed
Up or down, or left, life or death
I see in a mist of smoke
Death becomes any nigga takes me for a joke
We hit a five stick, now we putting in work
Unaccountable amounts of dirt, becomes all niggas
Anybody killer, you what the deal is
Nigga, you know the real is

I see mark brand niggas on the corner flagging me down
Saying, "Yo Daz, what's up the Pound?
Is nigga snoop alright? Hey yo what's up with the crew?
Is them niggas in jail, or are niggas through?"
I said, if you ain't up on
Snoop is the name, Dogg Pound's the game
It's this they don't understand
It's an everyday thing, to
Make that twist, don't be a bitch, let these know
What's up with you I represent the Pound and Row
And can't no other motherfucker in L.A. or Long
And Compton, and Watts, see
Now, you can't come and you run, and you can't
See to the G of the gang
One gun is all that we need, to put you to
Pump pump, put 2 slugs in your chest
Now you dead then a motherfucker, and sleepin
6 deep in, fuckin with the Pound is

Suicide, a suicide

The cloud black, and the sky becomes blue
Now you in the of the Dogg Pound crew
no clue, on why the fuck we do what we do
Leave you in a of paranoia, oh
Don't a move for your gat so soon 'cause
I drops bombs Platoon (hey nigga)
Walk with me, hold my hand and let me you
I'll you on a journey, and I promise I won't leave you
(I won't leave you) until you get the comprehension
And when you do, that's the mission
Or survival, becomes your every
Keep your eyes open, you don't want to be caught
Half steppin your weapon on safety
Now break yourself motherfucker you make me
Take this 211 to another
I come up with ends, you go down with the devil
Now roam the depths of hell
the rest your buster ass homeboys dwell

Suicide, a suicide

Now tell me, what's my motherfuckin
Serial killa, serial killa, serial

(Wake up in the morning, to Lucky cereal)

Deep, deep like the of Minolta, now picture this!
Let's inside a morgue
Not pic-a-nic baskets, caskets
And I got the machine, cracks your fucking chest plates
Open and release guts
I release def cuts
Brutal, edged, totally ruff-neck
Now everybody 'nough respect to the X
'Nough given
and you will not be living
Word to momma, Emma, drama,

Suicide, a suicide

Now tell me, what's my motherfucking
Serial killer, serial killer, killer

(Wake up in the morning, to Lucky cereal)