Luyện nghe bài hát The Food

I in the crib, got 2 kids
And my baby late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)
So I had to did I had to did
I had to give (dough, dough, dough)
I'm up all night my money right
Until the and whites (popo, popo, popo)
Now the money slow, but at least a nigga know
Slow motion better (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh)

You to hear the story, again and again
About young brothers from the city of wind
juice and gin in the city we blend
Amongst the hustle, titties and skin, fifties and
Y'all the spreewells
And trucks detailed,
Heartless females that to ride in 'em
Felt the southside in them with raw and denim
Bent collide with them
A system tries victims, we livin' in
My man in the fast lane
On the block is sellin' like m & m
On the block get off like Kim 'n 'em
On the block is how you can feel it in skin
Shorties get the game with no of asemblin'
Odds right it like the fight is dim in him
my man cousin like I'm kin to him
He to stay straight, the streets is bendin' him

I walked in the crib, got 2
And my baby late (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)
So I had to did I had to did
I had to give (dough, dough, dough)
I'm up all night my money right
Until the and whites (popo, popo, popo)
Now the money coming slow, but at a nigga know
motion better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh)

It's all in the hood like rats and gyms
Fullbacks and tims, and rims
Whether on ball
Attires are ball
We never short
With us it's all like air ones
Some wave some air
The day of the fair ones it's fo'
is colder than four below, wha'sup?
I go toe to toe
Wondering if it's for the art or for the
Though I know to grow a gotta learn to let go
Though I know the dough I gotta back to the ghetto
or Tarot cards pointin' to the grind
Po' livin' and mo' pointin' to my mind
Shine the up!
my fists tight and holdin' it right up
Freedom in dark gear for the years to get brighter
Situations, the jaws get
My man trying to get his way to

I in the crib, got 2 kids
And my baby momma (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)
So I had to did I had to did
Cause I had to (dough, dough, dough)
I'm up all night my money right
Until the blue and (popo, popo, popo)
Now the coming slow, but at least a nigga know
Slow better than (no-oh, no-oh, no-oh)

Yo, hey yo I, I I could make it right
If I can swallow my pride
But I run away or put my gun away
You front on me
I, no I can't let it
No no not
No I can't run away or put my gun
You front on me