Luyện nghe bài hát Under Attack

Heeeyyy, uhh, half in yo mouth
Check it out, half ounce in the

Chrous: bring the yellow tape fosho,
Playa hatas us niggas hell no,
Fools to die,
be afraid,
Bring your gun and your sac we under attack,

1:
no chances,
End up that least circumstances,
Keeps a composure,
One time's takin glances,
Who your enemy on the evilest team,
all your c.r.e.a.m.,
Havin your bad dreams,
for all the amigos
And the sistas,
How ya us now,
gon' bow,
Ain't top dollar straight corner to corner,
Keeps my hand in the pie little jack horner,
Soldiers on my left right to die,
Infiltraters six feet our head to the sky,
Its a cold cruel tryin to watch my back,
Got these cold ass thugs ready to and jack,
Shiit!! for the paper,
Street and all,
Best be ready to hit the doo' the one times call,
Gots the it's still for the money son,
And if bailin' through compton you betta bring a gun,

2x

Verse2: bam
I deliever my blow it be fatal,
Get yo ass smashed like and gravy,
Maybe with some prctice you can me,
But I it, picked up the compton time
And read about it, how my makes the front page
In a rage, in a live concert blowin on stage,
People swingin' on a and got the place packed
To the maximum capacity, comin from far and near,
To get a of these gang-bangers, playas and pimps, check it out,
When we roll we rolls thick like nappy ass hair,
chronic smoke up in the air,
So get it nigga,
Boom-bam and nigga,(geeyyaa),
Peeped yo' game from the nigga,
We know you nigga,
We gots to keep a close eye under our backs,
Lock the gates sound the 'causez we under attack.

Verse3: mc
Betta' out for the murder I wrote, black super spokes
Black stars and a black coat, on a mission,
Dead presidents I gots to stackin, enemies can't see the
In my jacket, best raise up I set it off on g.p.,
rule if you tryin' to bring harm to me,
Felony case catcher to the degree,
Like the ginger bread man y'all catch me,
On the run nigga held no jail cells,
two steps ahead, no traces for feds,
Phone taps instead, on the phone,
as fuck 'causez they don't know the number was called,
Outta the country, d.a. on the yall,
Me and a senortia on my side the black heater,
Sweeter than the rest, pounds at gate sippin,
shippin to the u.s.a.,