Luyện nghe bài hát West Up!

WC
Wessyde-fa-life-in-ya!!
("Throwin up the W" -- Ice Cube) 2X
Yeah, I'm with this, we throwin up?
("Throwin up the W" -- Ice Cube)
All you busta ass niggaz out
I got my homeboys in the house ("Throwin up the W")
My Ice Cube ("Throwin up the W"), Mack 10
Back to set the record for all these busta ass niggaz
who trip, this how we do it
WC
Front side to side
We be it up, till the day we die
Niggaz hit me up, I'ma have ta
So motherfucker Up!
(repeat 2X)
One: WC
Nigga clear the lane, here I come, again
this, gangsta click, droppin this, gangsta shit
Strictly for the riders who us I gotta WestSider
rhymer for them that's sittin on them Dayton wires
Pump the bass, hit the
Ice Cube, Mack 10, and Dub-C, back up in this b-i-itch
Straight hoodsta for life, no lookin back
Ink in my flesh, tattered on my chest
with the shadow of death
Through the of the skanless, South Central Los Angeles
Home of the Crips and the
Where the strongest niggaz is drug through the mud
And visitors from outta town to stay in Hollywood
You get that ass ganked strollin through my hood
West till the casket drop
I be throwin it up, so West Up!
Verse Two: 10
It's gun ho Mack one-oh you can't fuck wit deez
Ice and Dub-Ceez is my G'z
And hip-hop, top three niggaz the new
Never cause we flosses, packin Nina Rosses
Nigga, you knew how we do it
Ain't a Damn Thing Changed, on them thangs
forever and a day, so back up, gimme room, don't
Just respect and I can't check I wreck
Now you can out the bustas and snitches
Shit only killers hootchie bitches and hot hydraulic allowed
On the turf the real hogs dwell
Sewed up the hood, the fattest bolas on the block for
Inglewood City, the I call home
be so bright, you might need your locs on
to through, it's fin you're in with Mack 10
And I gotta confess up, nigga this Up! for life

Verse Three: Ice
Now I got ta show you how the West coast
No razor blades, in my mouth, a glock
And I'm hittin you up, with W-S
The sun, in the East, but it sets in the West
No gold teeth, you gets a
So hand me the goodies, stockin mask, no
day, I'm in a tre
While some of you got the robe reindeer and a sleigh
We don't call it five-oh, we call it one
It's my life my life my my life, in the sunshine!
One nine a ton
How the fuck you that the West was won?
Now shit can be squashed over a forty ounce of
No jokes, the land of locs and spokes
In the East, we can be
But you come to L.A., watch your motherfuckin colors
West Up!

Verse WC
it up, give it up
Like the nigga Brown, me and my niggaz are puttin it down
So be wary cause see we represent the city
Where niggaz caught is left with they brains drippin
of the Angels, more like a concrete jungle
full of macks Cadillacs and crack
I pledge to the shit till I die
[Mack 10] So let the five-twenty and put it down from the WestSide

WestSide!!!
("Throwin up the W")