Luyện nghe bài hát Yolanda's House

Yeah yo, I'm up, Nike's is scuffed
Still buggin' around four, how I escaped the bust?
The way I fell, cracked the of my watch
My man's me on like, "Run son, don't go up in the spot"

Jettin' through and backyards, neighbors is rattin' me out
Dogs is barkin', all you is the car's sirens
I'm tryin' to think and the iron
Bomb in my sweats got me runnin', funny, you think I'm

May God strike me if he don't like me, I'm tired and I'm out of
The weed got me paranoid, my heart's poundin' my chest
Tryin' to focus up and progress
That's what I get for slingin' in projects

Next thing you know, I'm in this bitch's chillin'
Told her my and like this, I had her legs in the ceiling
Cookin' me fried fish sticks, hot side of biscuits
While she this, the bitch still slidin' on lipstick

Now I got the fat on, she crackin' a dutch
I'm with her pussy on the couch, I'm ready to fuck
Like, come here miss wop, where you put the condom box?
She finished off the last one, oh shit, I hear the

and talkies, I mashed her white Yorkie
Jettin' up the stairs, them want revenge like Porky's
So I slid, hid the wall, opened the door
Like, ooh, I seen my man, goin' in raw
So he jumped up, out, hid in the closet
I'm dyin' laughin', he said "Yo be quiet"

Now, let me put my drawers on, what kinda dope you on?
Should've knocked you came in the spot
Ghost you bustin' in here on the government shit
Got this screamin', grabbin the sheets, tryin' to cover her tits

asthmatic and you laughin' son
I bump my toe on the nightstand runnin', tryin' to grab the gun
Shit's real man, you dun
There comes a time in a man's life, he toss his pack and run
You know we like Crack and Pun

But Mr. JFK, state your business that be one
Now can it be you hot lord?
You did shit on the block that the cops tryin to lock you for?
Can't believe you blowin' the spot

My is buggin', she trippin'
My dick keep out my boxer drawers
Now I'm caught up in the drug
Niggas is callin' my horn, police is hittin' corner we on

Can't it, it's a thug thing
And in the moment of
I'm interrupted by Shallah

I need my money Meth, gonna buy hundred birds
Tell Tone, get at me, all little clients want work
He know we out, tell the kid meet me, matter of fact beep me
to mother, Lord, son he got me hurt

You still fuckin' shorty? I it
The big mouth broad be yolkin' my balls out
Her little wanted two bricks
You the nigga licks, a Maybach on twenty six
All he do is get money, hustle, he's a

He told me foul shit, wild
That nigga wear a lot of loud shit, no, that Steve Rifkind shit
Hit me some other talk, him in New York
They robbed the niggas, stabbed his son with a fork

That was Jesus' rooster's niece, little nooses
Father's homeboy, that's the kid who us a boost
He them things on the arm, said for us to be calm
And if some beef pop off, go and ring the alarm, c'mon