Luyện nghe bài hát Where I Rest At

Intro: 9 & killa sin

Yo. smell gun powder in the air?
Yo. I it, kid.
Shit is like this everyday I wake up.
We do this all time, kid.
a war zone.
It nothing new over here.
up.
You
time. military thing.
thing.
It's born, nigga.
civilize.
Yo. it out. yo. yo.

Chorus: 9

Where I rest at scheme at plot
Sling rocks, stars, cops over on our block and get
Bust a shot and get shot, pot, get locked
Do a bid, while some taught to resurface to the
Some don't last, won't
Where I at keep a vest and a gat at least three ways back
So, the flash can't track, I rest at do the one to time
Double dirty crossed sneeky fucks, where I rest at

[killa
Kid, but where I at the crime wave be jumping off
Like suicide, commitors on a busy highway they clothes off
The fire trucks, trust, bull swine, your draws off
The nine year olds toying his sword off
He can hardly tie his nikes up right, so how the fuck you blow his off
modernized, so are common, coarsed, where I rest at
Steping out the doors is set back
The warzone, the death trap, waiting to consume those who get
Shaolin, the island filled with hidden pure-breds
Killing who thrive on the forbidden rituals
Or getting you in the drop, sticking moves
The you almost mentally popped like scotty pippen
niggaz fame is almost chain gangs in state prisons
Wu-tang reign this worldwide for dirty richmen

(chorus)

assasson]
Yo, yo, I dwell in the slum, roll amongst the
Like ? hai-shews? , while ignorant strive to get jewels
Hustling rocks on the blocks and get caught be crooked
A ? haitian mamila? , you might get a way if you got stamina
And escape death valley, with crack alleys
? crock? these and boulders at niggaz who think they real-live soldiers
I make my money from to ? edo? , seventh street
Where the crackheads meet and walk on the block like cops on the
Too many heads draw heat, so I keep it short and sweet, on my feet
niggaz'll step on your toes, and I peeped you strategy
To your name to jealousy, your man's name is envy
That's why your mad at me, 'cause I tackling shit
And down the whole strip, and you won't make shit
'cause I got that white-white and my shit sells all
I got the fiends like, it was meer black in the back off his pants
Plotting on these savage cats, how to make run all they scratch
And stick them for all gats, don't ever cross me
I'm the ? heed? , and it be on where I rest at

(chorus)

9]
Where I at...