Luyện nghe bài hát Street Music

(feat. The Game)

{*helicopter flies

There comes a time, in every man's
When he gon' to decide, who he fuckin with
Who you fuckin with? Them don't care about you
Them niggaz give a fuck about you
Why you rappin like This street music!

(Sheek Louch)
Yo, let's, talk it what; Sheek can throw
the fiend on a nigga guarantee he won't up out it
No no, uhh; kinda old
but the muzzle usin make this motherfucker updated
Puh-puh, nigga please; if a nigga had son
and had him lookin down you wouldn't even
Uh uhh, I don't know; I don't wanna about
the money that you had, or what you did a time ago
Yo yo the hood is I don't gotta sell a lot
I just live off points than the porcupines
Uh uhh, feel me cousin? Sheek been a
this D-Block shit started buzzin
Some are sayin - no he wasn't, he sick
With that women in family can suck my dick
And I've been red hot every since; I ain't I'm the best
Muh'fucker, I'm just workin with some

(Chorus: Louch)
is that blood, crip, latin king shit, every hustler pushin a whip
Street - what? {*repeat 4X*}
This is that blood, crip, latin king shit, every pushin a whip
Street - what? {*repeat 4X*}

(Sheek Louch)
Y'all so sweet, Sheek so street
the doo rag on my head to the sneakers on my feet
The heart in my chest, black on my
And I swear to my son, I'll leave shit a mess
I do it for the yard, where of my squad
is sittin in a cell, through hell
And every frontin nigga got a story to
Bye bye nigga, fly nigga
The nigga spittin came from Bed-Stuy nigga
After that was Sheek, some say it was
I got loyalty; I ain't a to none of this shit
But I swear, on the streets I'm
Kinda ain't it? You don't wanna be
why the hood treat you colder than the A&P
I throw my fists up - but it ain't for black
It's for any motherfucker gets up

(Chorus)

(Sheek Louch)
Niggaz don't wanna buh-bug bang me
Cause 9 out 10 you see me I got the muh'fuckin thangs with me
Fuck it put 'em up; muh'fucker put guns in the air
If you me nigga hold 'em up
Ruh ruh rowdy ain't it; I afraid to go to war
and have a white tee, like you fingerpaint it
Every hood got 'em, kinda hard to 'em
Once I'm there about to tell you nigga shot him
What the is up? I ain't nuttin up
Niggaz hard 'til they leakin they button up
Get at my crew, nigga who
You don't need a flight to be all
me nigga - if it happens, it happens
But I ain't really a Grammy
spit rage; y'all don't want me to win nuttin
I'm bringin the Block on the stage

(Chorus)