Luyện nghe bài hát Stranded On Death Row

Stranded on Death Row, so when I swing my shit
I get rugged Rawhead Rex with fat tracks that fits
The gangsta type, what I kinda lethal
Niggas know, the that I kick, there's no equal
I'm niggas, yo, and maybe because of the tone
I kicks I grip the mic and kick shit
Niggas can't with
So I go hardcore, and slam
'Nough respect like a sensei, like Van Damme
So any nigga that they bossing
What don't you bring your ass on to Crenshaw and Slauson
a walk through the hood when we up to no good
Slanging them things a real O.G. should,
I'm stacking and and packing a ten so
you're slipping, I slip the clip in
But no set tripping
'Cause Death Row, rolling like the mafia
Think about whooping some ass, but what the fuck ya
Ain't but a buster
I'm Stranded on Death Row for pumping slugs in
Now you know outdone
Feel the shotgun, Kurupt, inmate, block one

No prevention from this mention of
You're a victim, from my driveby of
No extensions, all are to fail
Blinded by the light, it's you learn braile
From the lunatic, I death like
When I kick up raps
Dr. Dre will the scratch
With treachery, my form will blast
And totally surpass the
Not a storm, plural, make it, many
When I'm vexed, I fly leg necks and
In dimension, I'm the presenter
And the inventor, and the
Deranged, like the strangler
MC mangler, tough like
I write a rhyme, hard as
to the heat and get burned like mesquite
So you wanna do
The narrator RBX, block two

Rage, murderer
on Death Row
And now I'm serving a lifetime
be no repentance
Since it's the that I choose to lead
I plead
On all counts let the ball bounce it may
It's another clip into my AK
Buck em down with my underground
Facts and stacks of on my mattress
Bed frame there's another dead
Laying lain with the shame, who's to
Me, the lady of
On when I'm coming the D-E-A-T-H in
taking, no shit
So flip and you're to get dropped
187 on motherfuckers don't stop
Handcuffed as I bust be no debate
Rage, from cell block eight

Ayo stepping the fog
And through the smog
It's the number one nigga from the hood, Dogg
Making videos, now I in Hollywood
Busting raps for my now they call me Eastwood
Dre is the and my homey little nigga
G is my hand and my hand's on the trigga
Shooting at the hoes with the that I got
Sent to row cause I wanted to make a grip from serving my rocks
And I'm still, serving for mines,
To my motherfucking homies doing
In the pen and the jail
Mobbing with your blues on, mad as
And you say yeah the police
And all the homies on the is all about peace
And it's driving the cops
But ain't nothing but a black bay-bee
No I'm not flagging, but I'm just
I betcha don't see the D-O double G
And you see, the D-R to the E
Or my homey D.O.C.
You you can't fuck with my motherfucking DJ
That's my homey and we call him G
Yeah, and you stop
Doggy Dogg em down with the motherfucking Dogg Pound
That's the only way we'll em man
We gotta em, then choke em
Like the motherfucking man
It's three and to the two
And two and to the one
Cell block four Doggy Dogg's done