Luyện nghe bài hát Street Shit

Where my at?
Where red and blue flags, where that good at?
Somebody tell them hood rats to up front
And let the club know smoke my blunt, Ghost
Money green, weed green, hood black, heart
And never let 'em see where you live, where you at
Never let 'em know how you get it squash that
Never let the ride long, go squash that
You can it out or go and peace it up
If we was in jail I would make you your sneakers up
'Cause I'm a loyalist and I spray
44 make niggaz like crawfish
'Cause you seafood, so go on sleep 'em
I don't trust no niggaz, I don't eat 'em
Matter fact, keep it street with 'em
I don't like his style, I don't even speak him
I it G from the get-go
Real go-getter and I let my shit
You don't wanna get shit broke
I got the hawk, you don't wanna get shit broke
Yeah, uh, where my at?
Where them red and blue flags, where good at?
Where them Where that sticky?
my right hand man with the blicky?
Somebody tell hood rats to come up front
And let the club know smoke my blunt
Bitch, this ain't Gucci, ain't Prada
This shit I'm fuckin' with them niggaz say "Nada"

Hey yo, it's never gon' be
the world with the half face gorilla cover
Clip on top of each other, now e'rybody wanna to the Sheek
I'm on the plane watchin', 'Get Him to the Greek'
Twenty when I land just to listen when I speak
Bully, he in my will somewhere, he to eat
'I Get high like P's song
That's why my shades on, used to be in love Nia Long
Donny ain't around now talk 'bout Viet Cong
That's means more bitches more on my song
But I don't go back and forth, me no
Donny at your door like Avon, ding
Yeah, me and my E
Pop things off on your block then later we pop klikko
Hah, ain't it?
If you can paint a bigger picture, go 'head and pain it
Yeah, uh, my hood at?
Where them red and flags, where that good at?
Where vanillas? Where that sticky?
Where my right hand man the blicky?
Somebody tell them hood rats to up front
And let the club I'ma smoke my blunt
Bitch, this ain't Gucci, this Prada
This street shit I'm with them niggaz say "Nada"

Bang like white boys in mosh pits
spit on your favorite rapper, he's not shit
My catalogue is
Blunt for the prelude, one for the
Perform with a swarm of fully objects
Make it clearer than Podus
I'm for my phone 'cause I hear it before it ring
I'm for my gun 'cause I hear it before it ring
In the hood, I'm a
Phantom verbal, demolition in the booth
Slicker the oil that you get at the masseuse
thing with the conehead in the goose
Addin' in the coupe, subtractin' what I
Get in with a axe and matches and a noose
You have no idea on the havoc I
'Til it's way too late the matter's on your shoes
Yeah, uh, where my at?
them red and blue flags, where that good at?
Where them vanillas? Where sticky?
Where my right hand man the blicky?
Somebody tell them hood to come up front
And let the club know smoke my blunt
Bitch, this ain't Gucci, this ain't
This shit I'm fuckin' with them niggaz say "Nada"