Luyện nghe bài hát Trouble - Polar Bear

Da 5'9"]
Uhh,
5-9, my nigga Bow Tie
My Cee, Six July
Gangsta, what, gangsta, what, uhh
Gangsta, niggaz is

Yo, I'm out all day
From when you hear the sounds of the car
Then dickin, gangsta from start to the finish
- never socialable, nigga we too disposable
If I get close to you probably to dispose of you quicker
Go 'head, try somethin - live or die by numbers
I'd rather live paralyzed than to die runnin, you it
Stay out his path, he's and mad
Pull a K out and blast, and every day like his last
I'm a street nigga rhymin some words
in the finest of furs, cowboy minus the spurs and saddle
Prefer for battle; deserved
in highest level in status is not from herdin cattle
One guy, I'm nuttin like you mayn
Guns all look the to the un-trained eye
Easy to find, tell me how a can hide
The realest breathin, ain't no nigga realer alive

2X: Royce]
Y'all niggaz in (in trouble)
niggaz in trouble (in trouble).
Y'all in trouble (in trouble)
Y'all niggaz in trouble, you don't want

Tie]
It's the Elmer Fudd, fuck a mansion and a yacht
I got a buildin, weed runnin on the block (c'mon)
A sweet tooth for chronic, shit got me in ebonics
cracker, respect me for my talent
Sniff 'em out a bloodhound
Like bag mills out in Vegas on the Greyhound
I never plead guilty, come to court
Lawyer drunk off Henny, violators with me
And I walk cause it's real
Take they ass to trial then they a quarter mil', now that's a deal
rich at his best
Love hell I write, a 7 on my chest
I come, real street knowledge, boulevard school
Paid dues, cause niggaz I honor the rules
Left no clues, X found, is closed
While you go against the grain, a plane of fo's
Take slang to go, with the rubber handle steel
Spit dum-dums at labels, a 50-50 deal
Explode to your guts, that part hollow
Show the world your nuts, I'm the hoodlum role
To all the that'll follow
Just remember damage to the 99th
No one knows the hour, the Bow will strike
Took the sword from Hitler, they stuck in Christ
Now nice? . Now who's nice?

Yo, you see the press is too hot (uh-huh) when you rush my
I got, three for twenty-five, rhymes flip blows
What you never this voice, it's big Cee from the state
(where you from nigga?) Where we hustle hard, bang it out for the weight
Eyes wide, cause me and my organize crime
You either get it in the streets, or from the jail lines
My at command, I show the world my status
It's to the death blastin black automatics
You niggaz talk pain, he will catch these
hours on lockdown, one out your cell
I know it sounds sick, when you in this form
My city, the home where the killers is
Close capture, East and West, now you have to
leave a little room for this rapture
And there's no endin, to the I spit
I sacrifice my soul for filthy rich shit (gangsta shit)

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
Y'all know it's trouble, y'knamsayin?
I got my Detroit
I got my New niggaz
I'm a Chi-Town
And goin down for the new millenium motherfuckers!