Luyện nghe bài hát Hillwood

[First
The year is 7'0, the fifth,
I did my nine months now my life take a shift,
In the freeworld now, you raised me good,
But instead I blaze in the hood,
I was three my pops took a long vacation,
Now I'm facin' the revlation,
Gotta for a dope fiend to hit,
And I show no feeny if u some shit,
I'm high as the sky, for fry,
Be a G till the I die, oh my,
Why would u ever test this mex in a Lex just
Outta Tex, you know I'm gonna this shit,
Along with any bitch 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,
swingin' on my nuts it's so stylish, Model it,
Hold my dick like a 64', peace to all my mamas,
But really though, I'm a fool,
And G's can vouch that, up in the ghetto
Cheese on a mouse trap, and one day I'm rise,
And come up, till then I'm dope from sundown
To sunup.

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

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

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

(Straight up big baby)