Luyện nghe bài hát Under Attack

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

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

1:
no chances,
End with up least circumstances,
a cool composure,
One takin those glances,
Who be's your enemy on the team,
Racketeerin all c.r.e.a.m.,
Havin worst bad dreams,
for all the amigos
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 left ready to die,
Infiltraters six feet our head to the sky,
Its a cold cruel world tryin to my back,
Got these cold ass thugs to ride and jack,
Shiit!! for the paper,
Street and all,
be ready to hit the doo' when the one times call,
Gots the picture still for the money 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 like potatoes and gravy,
with some prctice you can fade me,
But I doubt it, picked up the time
And read about it, how my crew 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 these gang-bangers, and pimps, check it out,
we roll we rolls thick like some nappy ass hair,
Straight smoke up in the air,
So get it nigga,
Boom-bam and nigga,(geeyyaa),
yo' game from the start nigga,
We you fake nigga,
We gots to keep a close eye under our backs,
the gates sound the guns 'causez we under attack.

Verse3: mc
Betta' watch out for the murder I wrote, black super
stars and a black leather coat, on a mission,
Dead presidents I gots to stackin, 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 bring to me,
Felony catcher to the first degree,
Like the ginger bread man y'all can't me,
On the run nigga held no jail cells,
two steps ahead, no traces for feds,
Phone taps instead, on the phone,
Dumb as fuck 'causez they don't the number was called,
the country, d.a. on the payroll yall,
Me and a senortia on my side the black heater,
Sweeter than the rest, paid at gate sippin,
While to the u.s.a.,