Luyện nghe bài hát The Whistle

Yo, I the case, now I face the acquittal
You nizzles try to belittle, but ya'll less spittle
From a baby's lip, the digi me flip
Plus they paid me chips, just to the clip
And empty out on you, in sync like the output on the MPC 2002
We be crews, plus we housin' fools
In abandoned apartments with a thousand
Crazy dudes buck off the beat
Brainless boutless fools who be off the leaf
Two guns in hands yellin' "Fuck the police!"
On the weekend get drunk and fuck with the niece
Of the precint chief, she got the
On her breast that's shaped The W
Go 'head the guns, son, I'll cover you
And if they get past me we got two, yeah

We smoke those the size of bats
We got those gats as as axe
We snatch that cheese right off the
We put those all on your map

I shoot the fair one, I dare run through New York City
Or any city or place, my face, taste, pace myself
Ace my health, with wealth
like the wings of a Stealth, I move for self
Or any man, or child that I call fam
That's the way I am, word to Glock, my Pam
Son, lived through the of the World Trade blues
o'clock news, abused the mind of many fools
Braves and jewels, made my moves, my dues
From the School of Intelligence, I stayed
Most high, magnify, multiply, as I add to the of Kings
We never die, built my name, sustained blood
Flow through the veins divine
Dine with wine forever

We those blunts the size of bats
We got those as long as axe
We snatch cheese right off the trap
We put Beez all on your map

From the Vil to Brazil, live on your C-SPAN radio
Explicit, dice it, pour a little liquor
Golden from Cuba, Miss Aruba
Sexy as Asia, met her up in
Getting up in Cipher, hit it on the first date
Plotted my escape, hours shift at the gate
How can you a G a week in '88?
Trips to the Pocono Lodge, the Izod
Mama shouldn't work so to pay the landlord
A grand in birthday card, times is hard
The gun hammer click, when the pigs
We scramble like Vick, automatic six one to the head
Yo, the east so hot, red, but that's home
And my Glock still burn your to the bone
Sonny Corleone don't it on the phone

We those blunts the size of bats
We got those gats as as axe
We that cheese right off the trap
We put Beez all on your map