Luyện nghe bài hát Talking To The World

[Jim
I grew up in the 'jects, inch what I press
Fry way to hold a tec, live bait I'm so man
In them staircases, we just sittin here
Waitin them crystal clear cases tryin to make a sale
When that wreck 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 the rain
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 the game (vroom!)
That's why I think kinda different, and some think that I'm
Cause I smoke too much, and I drink I'm twisted (I'm on point)
I'm to maintain to stay afloat (that's right)
Cause that main game of coke is goin down the tubes (that's a wrap)
That's why I'm downin booze, I stay by dudes
That chew my food, bon appetit - chow time

[Jim
The purple, HAZE, keep scorchin and
Nightmares at night I wake up in sweat, and turnin (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 somethin (what happened what happened)
rollin up haze (uh-huh)
As I stomp through this man they throwin up treys (Eastside)
We from the streets, the struggle, know the hustle
Know the hook, know to cut it, know to double (know price)
Now if you don't change your mind, change your
Don't get caught in the facade, get caught up on a charge
(Don't be facin six) You that life goes by
as fast as them nights goes by
Hold fast, them and whites go by (SQUALIE!)
We movin white, whole
Hope to God the law or the vice don't ride (SQUALIE!)
We been in our own hustle
You see the government's the powder but the crack is our own
We smart we?

Jones]
Sheeit, the in the kitchen, I speak to you listen
The beef if it the heat'll stay clickin, believe that?
I'll be burnin water, I turn the corners (uh-huh)
I'll be more than as {?}
R.I.P., man kind of redundant
Niggaz, dyin off dumb shit, bullets fly the gun spit
Plus, man they ridin to dump (yes sir!)
In hooped up whips, the miss and I scoop up with
the eighth in 'em, shoot up shit and straight get 'em (boom)
They up shit like straight sick 'em (sick 'em)
Over turf or strip, or that work the bricks
We'll squirt the shotty, and your squad-dy (woo)
That's the code of my
Over that and them grams, niggaz blowin your man (we gon' get 'em)
Get you all shot hoes for a grand
Man, death is so cheap in my - short paper