Luyện nghe bài hát Yolanda's House

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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' every we on

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

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

You still shorty? I knew it
The big mouth broad that be my balls out
Her little brother wanted two
You know the nigga licks, a 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, Steve Rifkind style shit
Hit me with some talk, him in New York
They robbed the Venezuelan niggas, his son with a fork

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