Luyện nghe bài hát My Flag/Da Homies

Maybe I iron out my flag
Maybe I should put another in it
Maybe I should iron out my
If you gang who you beefing with?

I Know your never hurt nobody
But he got his ass smoked at Mustard party
OG Blood, everybody know me I came in with the little homies, Skeme!

Get out the way yo, get out the way yo
That nigga duke just moved a house in
And you know I keep on the payroll
I even with Mitchy Slick down in Daygo
Young General these niggas spray for
You Fuck and catch 20 out this Range Ro'
Mane that beef shit is what a made for
I open on her open mouth, case closed
Came in this with Chuck Taylor's screaming fuck haters
Bad bitch fuck later, tryna touch paper
In a 6 tray rag going up the ave
What I'm drinking got me thinking, maybe I should iron out my -

Maybe I should out my flag
Maybe I should put crease in it
Maybe I should out my flag
If you gang who you beefing with?

Is killing us, that's for anybody nigga
Mainline, waistside, westside
Fuck peace, for Crenshaw kings
Suckin' out niggas, fuck is mean?
Lowkey is on drop, give a fuck bout mama
When it's on, it's on, pop it a bottle of patron
Then lay back with a bitch, man is westside Jay 3-0 fifth
No gimmicks, God

I won't stop being a to gangland
To my then kicked in locked up in a strange land
So when be like, "Slick, why we ain't see you on TV or nothin'?"
Shit, I'm still tryin' get off the injunction
'Cause when it come to this been, I'm a monster to leaf
You can do a whole damu on just me
it "The Life of a Hundred Percent Real Whooper"
They did it for the grams, moves and the
Gah

Maybe I iron out my flag
Maybe I should put another in it
I should iron out my flag
If you gang who you beefing with?

I put the in the woop like my DLB's
All I know is VNG's and
I ran phase back to back, on STB
And if you claimin' you a blood, shit, you know me
Big homie gave me a gun and "It better be empty"
I was eleven years old a motha'fuckin' fifty
I got love for certain niggas, I've been doing this since knee high
And you a real blood if you didn't bang at the beehive

Westside AM, back in a jacket
Mister LA back, my A track
Middle of July, I'm just tryin' bring a
Whole riding, I ain't even did a Dre track
this [?], made the game mad
So east coast be like "Cuh, you crackin'."
Niggas ain't goin' hard, as you should stop
I'ma be the street rider till the

Maybe I should iron out my
Maybe I should put crease in it
Maybe I should out my flag
If you gang who you beefing with?

The homies in the cut that's on E, niggas turnt up and we bout to hit the
The homie on probation, make him sit up in the
Bout to hit the weed and get another sack
I said, the homies in the cut on E, down for whatever cuz the homies roll deep
on the trigger, bandana round the Mac
Ride the hood with a cup full of 'gnac

The in the cut that's on E, niggas turnt up and we bout to hit the street
The on probation, make him sit up in the back
to hit the weed spot and get another sack
I said, the homies in the cut that's on E, down for whatever cuz the homies roll
Finger on the trigger, bandana the Mac
Ride through the hood with a cup full of

I'm a Compton Crip I hope you niggas get the message
Leave them 16's open, I'll make look bad on records
told me "I'm Good", now I'm headed down to the seaters
After that, straight to the where them tanners holding theme heaters
Look, sagging the A-Line, war fuck it no play time
Hit my first I was still chuckin' up gang signs
Homies still cooking them hop out with K9
Lot of callin' out names, nigga don't say mine
The homies in the cut on E
Some niggas bang the C some bangin' the P
I'm really in the you other niggas is weak
On my mama and the hood, fuck and Ya ass in peace
Especially

The in the cut that's on E, niggas turnt up and we bout to hit the street
The homie on probation, make him sit up in the
Bout to hit the weed spot and get sack
I said, the homies in the cut that's on E, down for whatever cuz the homies roll
Finger on the trigger, bandana the Mac
Ride through the hood a cup full of 'gnac