Luyện nghe bài hát Serial Killa

Six ways to die, choose one

It's time to escape, but I don't know the fuck I'm headed
Up or down, or left, life or death
I see myself in a of smoke
Death becomes any that 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 know the deal is
Nigga, you know the real is

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

Suicide, it's a

The becomes black, and the sky becomes blue
Now you in the midst of the Dogg Pound
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 like Platoon (hey nigga)
Walk me, hold my hand and let me lead you
take you on a journey, and I promise I won't leave you
(I won't leave you) you get the full comprehension
And you do, that's when the mission
Or survival, your every thought
Keep your eyes open, 'cause you want to be caught
steppin with your weapon on safety
Now break yourself motherfucker you make me
Take 211 to another level
I come up with ends, you go down with the devil
Now roam through the depths of
Where the rest your buster ass dwell

Suicide, a suicide

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

(Wake up in the morning, to Charms cereal)

Deep, like the mind of Minolta, now picture this!
picnic inside a morgue
Not pic-a-nic baskets, pic-a-nic
And I got the machine, cracks your fucking chest plates
Open and them guts
I release def cuts
Brutal, edged, totally ruff-neck
Now everybody scream respect to the X
'Nough respect
Disrespect and you 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 Charms cereal)