Luyện nghe bài hát Yolanda's House

Yeah yo, I'm skinned up, Nike's is
buggin' earlier around four, how I escaped the bust?
The way I fell, cracked the face of my
My chantin' 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 hear is the sirens
I'm tryin' to and toss the iron
in my sweats got me runnin', funny, you think I'm lyin'

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
what I get for slingin' in them 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 fish sticks, hot side of them biscuits
While she doin' this, the bitch still on lipstick

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

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

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

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

But Mr. JFK, your business after that be one
Now can it be you hot lord?
You did some shit on the block the cops tryin to lock you for?
believe you blowin' the spot Lord

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

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

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

You still shorty? I knew it
The big mouth broad that be my balls out
Her little wanted two bricks
You know the nigga licks, a on twenty six
All he do is get money, hustle, a dick

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

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