Luyện nghe bài hát Street Shit

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

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

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