Luyện nghe bài hát Serial Killa

Six ways to die, choose one

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

I see some mark brand niggas on the flagging me down
Saying, "Yo Daz, what's up with the
Is that nigga snoop alright? Hey yo up with the crew?
Is them niggas in jail, or are them through?"
I said, if you up on things
Snoop Dogg is the name, Dogg Pound's the
It's like they don't understand
an everyday thing, to gang-bang
Make that twist, don't be a bitch, let these niggas
up with you I represent the Pound and Death Row
And can't no other motherfucker in L.A. or Long
And Compton, and Watts, see
Now, you can't and you can't 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 dead in your chest
Now you then a motherfucker, creepin and sleepin
6 feet deep in, with the Pound is

Suicide, it's a

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

Suicide, it's a

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

(Wake up in the morning, to Lucky cereal)

Deep, deep 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 release them
Then I release def
Brutal, edged, totally ruff-neck
Now everybody scream 'nough to the X
'Nough respect
and you will not be living
Word to momma, Emma, drama,

Suicide, a suicide

Now tell me, my motherfucking name
Serial killer, killer, serial killer

(Wake up in the morning, to Charms cereal)