Luyện nghe bài hát Under Attack

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

Chrous: the yellow tape nigga fosho,
Playa hatas infiltrate us niggas no,
Fools to die,
be afraid,
Bring your gun and your sac 'causez we attack,

1:
no chances,
End with up that circumstances,
Keeps a composure,
One takin those glances,
Who be's enemy on the evilest team,
Racketeerin all c.r.e.a.m.,
your worst bad dreams,
Pesos for all the
And the sistas,
How ya us now,
Competitas bow,
Ain't nothin' top straight corner to corner,
Keeps my hand in the pie like little horner,
Soldiers on my left right to die,
Infiltraters six keeps our head to the sky,
Its a cold cruel world to watch my back,
Got cold ass thugs ready to ride and jack,
Shiit!! for the paper,
dreams and all,
Best be to hit the doo' when the one times call,
Gots the picture it's still for the son,
And if you're bailin' through compton you betta a gun,

2x

Verse2: bam
I my blow it could be fatal,
Get yo ass smashed potatoes and gravy,
with some prctice you can fade me,
But I doubt it, picked up the time
And about it, how my crew makes the front page
In a rage, in a live blowin blunts on stage,
swingin' on a chasity and got the place packed
To the capacity, people comin from far and near,
To get a glimpse of these gang-bangers, and pimps, check it out,
we roll we rolls thick like some nappy ass hair,
Straight chronic up in the air,
So get it nigga,
Boom-bam and nigga,(geeyyaa),
Peeped yo' from the start nigga,
We you fake nigga,
We gots to keep a eye fools under our backs,
Lock the gates sound the 'causez we under attack.

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