Luyện nghe bài hát Trouble - Polar Bear

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

Yo, I'm out all day
From when you hear the sounds of the car
start dickin, gangsta from start to the finish
Whassup - socialable, nigga we too disposable
If I get close to you it's to dispose of you quicker
Go 'head, try somethin - or die by these numbers
I'd rather paralyzed than to die runnin, you feel it
out his path, he's chaotic and mad
Pull a K out and blast, and every day like his last
I'm just a street nigga rhymin some
Dabble in the finest of furs, cowboy minus the and saddle
Prefer for battle; most
in highest level in cowboy status is not from herdin
One strange guy, I'm nuttin you mayn
Guns all the same to the un-trained eye
Easy to find, me how a gorilla can hide
The realest nigga breathin, ain't no nigga alive

[Chorus 2X:
niggaz in trouble (in trouble)
Y'all niggaz in (in trouble).
Y'all niggaz in (in trouble)
Y'all niggaz in trouble, you don't this

Tie]
It's the black Elmer Fudd, fuck a mansion and a
I got a project buildin, weed runnin on the (c'mon)
A sweet tooth for chronic, shit got me in ebonics
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 cause it's real
Take ass to trial then they lose a quarter mil', now that's a deal
Filthy at his best
Love hell I write, with a 7 on my
I come, real street knowledge, boulevard school
Paid dues, cause know I honor the rules
Left no clues, X found, case is
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, a 50-50 deal
Explode to your guts, that left hollow
Show the your nuts, I'm the hoodlum role model
To all the competition that'll
Just remember damage to the power
No one knows the hour, that the Bow strike
Took the sword from Hitler, that stuck in Christ
Now nice? . Now who's nice?

Yo, you see the press is too hot (uh-huh) when you my flows
I got, three for twenty-five, rhymes flip blows
What you never heard this voice, it's big Cee from the
(where you nigga?) Where we pimp hustle hard, bang it out for the weight
Eyes wide, cause me and my niggaz crime
You either get it in the streets, or runnin from the jail
My at command, I show the world my status
It's to the death blastin black automatics
You niggaz talk pain, he will these shells
hours on lockdown, one out your cell
I it sounds sick, when you deal in this form
My city, the where the killers is born
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 this filthy shit (gangsta shit)

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