Luyện nghe bài hát Southside Story Pt.2

Yeah, Yeah,

I done from mistakes like who's my men, and who's not
Like who's run, but who's not
Like gone shoot if you shot
Who gone it and who's not
Who gone spots

In the streets of New York, you can't nobody
Niggaz'll run up on you a 12-guage shotty
Loyalty comes free, weed is my hobby
You wanna rob me, you leave here with a body
In the streets of New York, You can't nobody
run up on you with a 12-guage shotty
Loyalty comes free, smokin' is my hobby
You wanna rob me, you gotta leave with a body

1]
When I was ten years old, I a nigga take three in the head
Probably the same time he used to pee in the bed
I stayed awake, cause my was seein' 'em dead
Smelled the burnt peelin' after leavin' him lead
The killer fled, with a fuckin'
My heart on blast
I started at him, slumped in the grass
movin', fingers shakin', spittin' up blood
DNA mixed in the mud, another to be dug
I stood, stiffer than wood
See homey used to buy me
Now gone, who gone provide his family?
My earring, been runnin'
I thought I'd be that sick
Damn, I wasn't 'posed to see that
when I thought
It was than three shots
He been waitin for me, maybe he circled around the block
I turned at my pops, he like "what happened?"
nigga rolled up and just started clappin'
I can still him laughin'

2]
It was a regular day in South Side, sprinklers and kids
All of a sudden, turnin', somebody did somethin'
This named, I forgot, fuck it, he lived around the block
Regular gettin' money nigga, but loved to a lot
Walked across the park, stuntin',
in his ear, diamond watch on
Eatin' a bag of
up behind a shorty, grabbin' her waist
She pushed him away, so he threw the bag in her
She felt disrespected, shorty couldn't it
Called him a pussy, him she'd be back in a second
But he din't pay her no
Called her a bitch about four
in the park, wit' no niggaz wit' em and no nine
And them in no time, older nigga behind
Swung a baseball bat, left his all crack
him "take all that"
Hit him again, popped his wit' a frown
And left the clown, with a stain on the

3]
All my days go by blowin' sticky, icky
California me picky
Chicken tried to stick me wit' a hickey
If we, blow up quickly, stickly, tipsy
The location don't matter, I'm South until' they hit me
I'll be
If looks can kill, I'm the ghetto boys
But I don't know Scarface, I wit' bill
My spills
For the kids that ain't got ain't got it still
And for my, cousin I
over the steerin' wheel