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

[Chorus 2X:
niggaz in trouble (in trouble)
Y'all niggaz in (in trouble).
Y'all in trouble (in trouble)
Y'all niggaz in trouble, you want this

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

Yo, you see the press is too hot (uh-huh) you rush my flows
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 pimp hard, bang it out for the weight
Eyes wide, cause me and my niggaz organize
You get it in the streets, or runnin from the jail lines
My game's at command, I show the 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 is born
Close capture, East and West, now that you to
leave a little for this Midwest rapture
And there's no endin, to the words I
I sacrifice my soul for filthy rich shit (gangsta shit)

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