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

I was born in New Jersey, I said it
But I guess heard me, my mother died young
No sistas or brothas, I was the son
I was twelve my pops died too

What a brotha was to do?
sent me out West to live with my aunt
I guess they thought it was the
But there was no there growin' with no moms

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

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

I walked to Crenshaw high, was fly
I hooked up with a new
Some brothas knew what the fuck to do
You might call it a but we called it a set

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

I did three years in and close friends
Havin' no love my homies came my
I was glad, a I never had
But I grew up fast got a girl on grade pregnant

cash, I had to change my style
Switched from to hustlin'
No more goin' buck had to get a cash flow
But my was weak, it was a no go

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

Passed for the
sledgehammers were the tools
I speak on with a hesitation
Even though it passed the of limitation

I checked the
Bought a Porsche and gear, earned high street
But as I my whole crew fell through
had us on the books as interstate crooks

Murder robbery rape escape, the damn nine
You robbed a nigga
I had too much juice, I cut my loose
I was with the pimp game

on the ice-name but the pimp game moved too slow
Especially for a who was hooked 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 locked in a cell
That's how I'm

They cut me and I had to change troops
This time they didn't me
Next time stretch me
'Cause my time was gettin'

All my was in court
Or locked in a hole, this was gettin' old
So I my life
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 they ever did before
My came back from pen and we all worked together

True but every once and while
Some mistakes me as a junk
And he gets in my face, wrong place
And I lyin', that's how you dyin'