Luyện nghe bài hát Talking To The World

[Jim
I up in the 'jects, five inch what I press
Fry way to hold a tec, bait I'm so brazy man
In them pissy staircases, we sittin here
Waitin with them clear cases tryin to make a sale
When wreck came around, I'm in the trench with my pound
I'm pitchin you cracks and the is my mound (what's good)
It ain't no freezin this game, I'm in the freezin the
Tryin to make G's off the so I can freeze up a chain (Jacob!)
Or put the on the thang (spinners!)
So I can speed through the (vroom!)
That's why I kinda different, and some think that I'm twisted
Cause I too much, and I drink 'til I'm twisted (I'm on point)
I'm tryin to maintain to afloat (that's right)
Cause that main game of coke is goin down the tubes (that's a wrap)
That's why I'm booze, I stay surround by dudes
That chew my food, bon appetit - chow time

Jones]
The purple, HAZE, keep scorchin and
Nightmares at night I wake up in sweat, tossin and (I can't sleep)
I'm light on my sleep, I get a wink, I might miss somethin
I think if I blink I might miss somethin (what what happened)
Constantly up haze (uh-huh)
As I stomp through this man they throwin up treys (Eastside)
We from the streets, know the struggle, know the
Know the hook, to cut it, know to double (know that price)
Now if you don't change mind, change your grind
get caught in the facade, don't get caught up on a charge
(Don't be facin six) You that life goes by
Just as fast as them goes by
Hold fast, them and whites go by (SQUALIE!)
We movin white, pies
Hope to God the law or the vice don't ride (SQUALIE!)
We been trapped in our own
You see the government's the powder but the crack is our own
We smart we?

[Jim
Sheeit, the heat's in the kitchen, I speak to you
The beef if it thicken the heat'll stay clickin, that?
I'll be burnin water, while I turn the (uh-huh)
I'll be more than as {?}
R.I.P., man that's of redundant
Niggaz, dyin off dumb shit, bullets fly when the gun
Plus, man they ridin to clips (yes sir!)
In hooped up whips, the place and I scoop up with
the in 'em, they shoot up shit and straight get 'em (boom)
They chew up shit like sick 'em (sick 'em)
Over that turf or strip, or work the bricks
We'll squirt the shotty, and your squad-dy (woo)
the code of my land
Over that blue and grams, niggaz blowin your man (we gon' get 'em)
Get you all shot over hoes for a
Man, death is so in my hood - short paper