Luyện nghe bài hát Street Shit

Where my at?
Where red and blue flags, where that good at?
tell them hood rats to come up front
And let the club know I'ma smoke my blunt,
green, weed green, hood black, heart black
And let 'em see where 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 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 look like crawfish
'Cause you seafood, so go on sleep 'em
I don't trust no niggaz, I eat with 'em
Matter fact, keep it street with 'em
I don't like his style, I don't even speak him
I keep it G the get-go
go-getter and I let my shit blow
You wanna get your shit broke
I got the hawk, you wanna get your shit broke
Yeah, uh, my hood at?
them red and blue flags, where that good at?
Where vanillas? Where that sticky?
Where my right man with the blicky?
Somebody tell them hood rats to come up
And let the know I'ma smoke my blunt
Bitch, this ain't Gucci, this Prada
This street shit I'm with them niggaz say "Nada"

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

Bang like them white boys in pits
Hach-too spit on your favorite rapper, he's not
My catalogue is
for the prelude, one for the process
Perform with a swarm of loaded objects
Make it than Podus 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 thing with the conehead in the
Addin' in the coupe, subtractin' what I
Get in with a axe and some matches and a
You have no idea on the havoc I
'Til it's way too the brain matter's on your shoes
Yeah, uh, where my at?
Where red and blue flags, where that good at?
Where vanillas? Where that sticky?
Where my right hand man the blicky?
Somebody tell them rats to come up front
And let the club I'ma smoke my blunt
Bitch, this ain't Gucci, ain't Prada
This shit I'm fuckin' with them niggaz say "Nada"