Luyện nghe bài hát Killa Klan

Killa (8x)
Chorus: Killa Klan Repeated North Memphis, South Memphis, ATL,
(cities for each chorus)

J]
Late nite, I was in the bed, eyes red
Thinkin' about project pat, and the fuckin jury said
Givin' him what they him, then they put him in handcuffs
Motherfuck dem laws, make you put yo hands up
Don't cross the line, yellow the police brand up
Outside the court, Norf and we klanned up
I can be a leader, bring the heata, like a
I can be a terroist to the government like a
Long as ya black, and ya wrist they put targets on
Watchin' every move, tappin' niggas cell phones
Don't, Fall, for the okay, Don't, Call, and bring the dope
And we gon' we till the break of dawn
Trapped in this hood where ain't no motherfuckin bon
And to that officer I your stompin' ground here
But If you ain't from my hood, get yo ass from round

(2X)

[Crunchy
I'm gonna catch the bitch
Then I'm gonna beat the
Then I'm gonna bitch
of been talkin' shit
You who you was fuckin wit
Fuckin wit the best
She who you been
Now I'm aimin' at yo
This out to all of y'all
All of y'all be talkin'
the clip up in the gun
Then commence to a nig
Bust a nig, at ya
Watchin' you fall
Screamin' out a bitch
Mane just some petty shit

Infamous]
I'm into blood baths, I don't, fine I'll ya
I'ma hit yo ass wit the fuckin launcher
Can you stand the pain, insane, bounty
Stop long, see ya pulp, ya unconscious
Throw you in the dumpsta, lord catch a
don't, pistol play jump up, if ya want ta
This is the unda, buried by yo
Not only do I mane I also am bomb ya

(2x)

J]
Picture this, you a and you on the stand
And you the judge the life of a black man
Young from the hood made it rappin' and
Wit a knot in his pocket weighin least a
Here's the story he got wit some fire arms
By a ass cop wit his siren awn
He was known as a felon made it than state
The whole case turned fed made him lose his
Picture this, now the he got hatred for crooks
ten years ago he was appointed by bush
Republican white man, and he give a fuck
If the guns wasn't his that was in his truck
Prosecutors, shady lawyers, who can you trust
All this palm greasy shit, mane bigga than us
Make you wanna be like it hit the trunk of the car
it was time for the jury to star

Killa (fade out)

RIP jesse deane