Luyện nghe bài hát Under Attack

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

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

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

2x

Verse2: bam
I my blow it could be fatal,
Get yo ass smashed potatoes and gravy,
Maybe with some you can fade me,
But I doubt it, picked up the compton
And read about it, how my makes the front page
In a rage, in a live concert blunts on stage,
swingin' on a chasity and got the place packed
To the maximum capacity, people comin far and near,
To get a glimpse of gang-bangers, playas and pimps, check it out,
When we roll we rolls thick like some ass hair,
Straight chronic 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 guns we under attack.

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