Luyện nghe bài hát That's How I'm Livin

I was in New Jersey, I said it before
But I guess nobody me, my mother died young
No or brothas, I was the only son
When I was twelve my pops too

a brotha was supposed to do?
They sent me out West to with my aunt
I guess thought it was the best
But there was no love there growin' with no

I guess I was prepared to live in a
The bedroom the kitchen, the hall and the
I leave home much, didn't like L.A.
Didn't have no to trust

Got to a school
Blacks and whites, I the shit was cool
But in high I changed
Didn't bust, didn't wanna play the game

I walked to high, shit was fly
I up with a new crew
Some brothas that what the fuck to do
You call it a gang but we called it a set

And it was our own thang, the school was down
And one way or another everybody fucked
Whether hardcore or not you wore the right or your ass got shot
That's how I'm

I did three years in and made friends
Havin' no love my came my only
I was glad, a family I had
But I grew up fast got a girl on grade pregnant

Needin' cash, I had to change my
Switched from bangin' to
No more goin' wild had to get a cash flow
But my was weak, it was a no go

I the army, four years in that shit
Be all fucked you can be, came back to the
My homies had done good, had elevated game
About 100 a lick, no mothafuckin' shame

for the jewels
Baby sledgehammers were the
I speak on with a hesitation
Even though it the statue of limitation

I checked the
a Porsche and gear, earned high street rank
But as I grew my whole crew through
Cops had us on the books as crooks

robbery rape escape, the whole damn nine
You robbed a nigga
I had too much juice, I cut my boosters
I was intreagued with the game

Took on the ice-name but the pimp moved too slow
Especially for a nigga who was on quick dough
In one night I was in a car wreck
And I was lucky to

Hospital for ten weeks, in bed dead
And when I got well, I got in a cross
And got in a jail cell
how I'm livin'

They cut me loose and I had to change
This time didn't catch me
Next time stretch me
'Cause my was gettin' short

All my homies was in
Or locked in a hole, this shit was old
So I changed my
Put the gun and picked up the mic

It took ten years to get there to here
But I keep a gun, cops got me on the run
And they hate me more now than they ever did
My homies back from pen and we all worked together

True friends but every and while
Some mistakes me as a junk
And he in my face, wrong mothafuckin' place
And I ain't lyin', that's how you