Luyện nghe bài hát Yapp City

[Intro: Killah]
[church bell
Yeah, yeah, we want all that shit, take all that shit
Sneak up on 'im right, me?
Soon as he turn around, yapp this nigga
I got everything,
ain't gotta do nothing, but just search them bitches
go...

[Ghostface
Nobody move, get hurt
This is a stick up, I want y'all to y'all skirts
I mean shirts, take ya hoodies off, jackets and
Before you put ya hands on the wall, ya pockets
Fix ya face, this a robbery, nigga, the juks
Stop shaking, you making me nervous, I that you shook
The fuck is that out from under ya foot?
Move, turn ya head around, nigga, you not look
Stacks, you hiding from Tone? shake, rattle ya bones
You killed him! Nah, hit him with the back of the fucking
In the dark, yo, I do alone
That's the reason why I don't shake hands, in case I you a phone
That's a fifty, long hickey, when I strike I do it quickly
up on my victims swiftly, make it hard for you to stick me
Cuz if we shoot it out, cuz if I die tonight you coming me
nigga, eat through ya chest like some fucking whiskey

[Chorus: Childs]
BOY! Gut him a pig in the dark
Or off ya bitch body parts
BOY! Poison a dog, disarm the alarm devices
Throw ya in vicegrips (yeah)
BOY! Or stick a hot blade through his
Get to sticking for the right prices
BOY! Yeah, is priceless.. GET 'EM!

God]
Aiyo, I post up, the shotti
Black mags in lobbies, with red dots, to detach the
If you a boss, why ya is sloppy?
This a Staten Island burglar gang, ock, not no Ave could me
I'm on the road, not no robbery
When it to that dough, it over flow like paper bag tsunamis
I take shit, and Tommy's
Niggaz passing out bombs like Culpepper, so I pass 'em
My black glove, mask, requirements
the order to Trife Dies', and he gon' send 'em fast, they flying in
These couldn't clash our lion's den
That mag'll twist ya aves and the cav you flying in
We hoping out cabs Iron Men
It's hard to believe how leave with no bag supplying sense
Empty cuz my staff is
Canine dogs with felonies duck fast firing

[Trife Da
Aiyo, we arms like a octopus
strapped with the mac inside her pocket book
Blowing all lots of
Dark on the V so the D's can't spot the crooks
Just ya hands in the sky, don't try to stop the juks
Face down, lay on the ground, no moves
Yo, then, take off his and get the work out his shoes
Rip off the pockets out his shoes, make sure he come out his
I hear sirens, plus the cameras is watching, time to move
If you lolly-gagging, word to mama, I'll bag 'im
Leave his frame riddled with holes, like Gotti had 'im
Bragging, juked, in the wagon,
We slid a few blocks down, kid was frozen
With stones so we decided to 'im
I put the tool in his mouth, said "You want the action
These ain't E pills, nigga, is fuckin aspirin
Bean, blast 'im, Homo' get his for his cash and
Yo, E, go stop the whip, 'bout to witness a slashing" (BOY!)