Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The is 7'0, October the fifth,
I done did my nine now my life take a shift,
In the freeworld now, you raised me good,
But instead I blaze in the hood,
I was three when my pops took a vacation,
Now I'm facin' the revlation,
Gotta for a dope fiend to hit,
And I no feeny if u want some shit,
I'm as the sky, fishin' for fry,
Be a G the D-A-Y I die, oh my,
Why would u test this mex in a Lex just banging
Tex, you know I'm gonna wreck this shit,
Along with any other who disrespect my clique,
Like a bit, I got the if a killa,
And them hoes out like a three wheela,
'cause I freaks my draulics, fuckin' in college,
Bitches swingin' on my it's so stylish, Model it,
my dick like a 64', peace to all my baby's mamas,
But really though, I'm a fool,
And G's can vouch that, up in the puttin'
on a mouse trap, and one day I'm gonna rise,
And come up, till I'm dealin' dope from sundown
To sunup.

Off the hills, of hillwood, Texas(x3)
You not test this mex in a Lex

[Second
As I crept through my it felt good,
All my homies have my with a gat in Hillwood,
is the hobby, brothers if you will,
And all of those really love us on the Hill,
Be if your blood runs deep in the hood,
All the punished shoulda put a bunk in da wood,
All stood, all good, keep they fucking bank if I
you got, but my glock I degrate,
You hate the way G's up with a mic,
I write what u like, 'cause it's my life,
I never not to type, indeed I am,
But if tryin to take my ends,
I be bam bam to that man in the pen,
boys too young to get stung,
Come the holy boys,
Hold the noise I boys to precise to
Fend from the my blunt,
To be shoot dice hit killa,
the mothafuckin eightball,
Pour a little for the ones who that great fall,
I keeps all my dead homies in my heart,
They got a start, and still we never part.

[Third
I remember December of 88', boys hit the cut was
To late to break, Had to swallow stones tossed
My Chrome in the bushes, dirty pigs jackin' up
Three bushes, my homie got a case tryin' to the
Van, got and fixin' to face the man,
In the gown with the wooden hammer,
Bamma, my nigga seven in the slammer,
Damma, old passin' time,
All my frends gone I'm last in line,
Betta me a new way to hustle,
Six years in the game and I feel the struggle,
Smuggle weed the checkpoint,
Just another day on the job as I mob but the oink,
Smoke a on the way to the valley,
Now I'm comin' and they wanna search my Caddi,
It's a risk when you to make that fast bank,
But them mutts can't past my gas tank,
So I catch 59 back to H-Town, arrive with my 38
Pounds, fresh from the border, may I your order,
You just want singled every five and a quarter.

(Straight up big baby)