Luyện nghe bài hát Some L.ANiggaz - Defari

Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West
Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world
niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?
Niggaz wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?
But shit come all the way back around here
My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all
You gotta recognize
L.A. niggaz, connected all over the world, nigga
this

Now in my younger days I used to a rag
Backpack of cans plus a four-four mag
G'd from the feet up, blued up the sewer's how I grew up
Lockin' smokin' and drinkin we threw up
At Park, taggin', hittin' fools up
my class, just to fuck yo' school up
You don't wanna blast, nigga yo' tool up

But don't sleep, niggaz quick to shoot you
Now there's motherfucker with no future
But Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba
Got 'em

I'm "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon
big green, call it Bruce Banner
Watch manners, at last another blast from the top notch
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop witcha
Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha
And Hittman a fix
Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this
Here it tick tick tick

Wait a minute it's on, I it like a true mackadelic
Weed and cocaine sold separate, it
sundown to sunup, clown done run up
The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and 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.

that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move
They me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do
Cock me
caps for my max crew, at Fairfax
Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's
But I grew up where niggaz jack you, you
Blast you, for set you claim
on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.

Blued up or flame, I ran wit a
I helped niggaz get jacked for Dana Dane's
My pants hang below my
I look humble rumble?
I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my
Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, and 9's
One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass
Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, on switches

I was in the hood called What-The-Dif'
Where the in the hood, refused to go Hollywood
for the fuck of it
Anybody hatin' on us can suck a
If I catch you touchin' mine you a flatline, dead on the floor
Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a
AvireX-to-the-Z
Fuckin' with me might get you 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'
forty-five in my dresser drawer
Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the roll
Roll with niggaz, who by by the fo'
And by the case
Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre
Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold
Haters fold the style, but can't find no

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and 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., in L.A.

how we ride
That's how we
That's how we
how we ride