Luyện nghe bài hát Where I Rest At

Intro: beretta 9 & sin

Yo. that 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 ain't new over here.
up.
You
Killarmy time. 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
a shot and get shot, smoke pot, get locked
Do a bid, while taught to resurface to the street
Some last, won't weep
Where I rest at keep a vest and a gat at least three ways
So, the flash can't track, where I rest at do the one to
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 with they clothes off
The fire trucks, trust, swine, blow your draws off
The year olds toying with his sword off
He can hardly tie his nikes up right, so how the fuck you blow his off
>from modernized, so are common, coarsed, I rest at
Steping out the doors is set back
The warzone, the death trap, waiting to those who get trapped
Shaolin, the villianous island filled with hidden
Killing niggaz who thrive on the rituals
Or getting you in the drop, sticking moves
The pick you almost mentally popped scotty pippen
Most niggaz fame is almost gangs in state prisons
Wu-tang reign this worldwide for dirty richmen

(chorus)

assasson]
Yo, yo, I in the slum, roll amongst the bums
Like ? , while ignorant brothers strive to get jewels
Hustling rocks on the and get caught be crooked cops
A ? haitian mamila? , you get a way if you got enough stamina
And death valley, filled with crack alleys
? crock? these bricks and boulders at niggaz who they real-live soldiers
I make my money from here to ? edo? , street
Where the crackheads and walk on the block like cops on the beat
Too many heads draw heat, so I it short and sweet, stay on my feet
'cause niggaz'll step on your toes, and I you strategy
To change your name to jealousy, your name is envy
That's why your mad at me, 'cause I start shit
And lock down the strip, and you won't make shit
'cause I got white-white and my shit sells all night
I got what the fiends like, it was black in the back off his pants
Plotting on these savage cats, how to them run all they scratch
And stick them for all gats, don't ever cross me
I'm precise the ? heed? , and it be on where I at

(chorus)

9]
Where I at...