Luyện nghe bài hát Some L.A. Niggas

Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this
(West y'all)
Yeah, L.A.
L.A. niggas the world nigga
Y'all niggas gotta recognize,
Niggas wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin?
But this shit come all the way back here
My nigga Dre, heat box on y'all bitch-ass
You gotta recognize
L.A. niggas, all over the motherfucking world, nigga
Recognize peep game

Now in my younger days I to sport a rag
Backpack full of plus a four-four mag
G'd up from the up
Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I up
Loc'n, and drinkin' til we threw up (threw up)
At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' up
Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' up
You don't wanna blast, tuck yo' tool up
But don't sleep, niggas quick to shoot you
Now there's motherfucker with no future
But Time Bomb smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba
Got em Disciples to the Hoover

I'm "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon
Smoke big green, call it Banner
Watch your manners, at last another blast the top notch
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock
Picture this, Dr. Dre wit Tha Liks
And Hittman a fix
Don't trip, it's a Time in this bitch
Here it tick tick tick {*BOOM*}
Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true
and cocaine sold separate, check it
From to sunup -- clown and run up
The Aftermath'll be two in gut, nigga what?

We roll deep, smoke on weed and pack heat
Requirements for each day in L.A.!
It don't stop, we still mash in hot from the cops
Analyze why we act way in L.A.!

Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack
call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do
Cock me
Bust caps for my max crew, at
Who to wear Air Max shoes, that's true
But I grew up where niggas jack you, you
Blast you, for that set you (where you from?)
Mash on you for Turkish chain, C.K. B.K
up or flame, I ran wit a gang
I helped niggas get, for they Dana Dane's
My pants hang my waistline
I humble wanna rumble? (yeah yeah)
I bang though, like Vince from the baseline
Don't waste my
Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, and 9's
One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass
Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, on switches

I was raised in the hood called
Where the in the hood, refused to go Hollywood
for the fuck of it
Anybody hatin' on us can suck a
If I you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor
Better than yours, driving away gettin' head a whore
AvireX-to-the-Z
Fuckin' with me get you banned from TV
Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right
Multiply, we don't die, the streets lie
What, so do I, I'm bad for your health
Like puttin' a pistol up to your and blastin' yourself

Five in the mornin', at my do'
Glock forty-five in my dresser
Let 'em come in he see the thunder roll
Roll niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'
And brew's by the
SLAP YOU in the face the bass, Dr. Dre laced
Likwit Kings wit Sedans and rings
Haters fold the style, but find no openings

We roll deep, on weed drink and pack heat
Requirements for survival day in L.A.!
It don't stop, we mash in hot pursuit from the cops
Analyze why we act way in L.A.!

In L.A

how we ride