Luyện nghe bài hát My Hood to Your Block

[Mr.
It's the advocate of
I give it to my fellons serving time in prison
Intermission with those my opponents die
Snatch a motherfucker for bluffing and wonder why
Oh my , who am I?? The of the night
Still crepping through darkest of them streets
With my gangsters chiefing burning leaves
Of Hairy batches, like matches we ashes
and we reacting with actions swinging like axes
Nothing me but fat blants and sticky bushes
The only of marijuana that a baller smokes and pushes
T-A-C for stimulation, intoxication
I'm the reason why they call it
the return of the One Man Batallion
Bitch slapping fools a pimp in the alleywun
Me and my dawgs break laws, you the heat
dont let me speak unless you wanna meet defeat

2x]
One, Two many motherfuckers wanna me
But when they see me walk right pass me
like a bunch of little tricks
But all I gotta say to my is suck my dick

[Mr.
I got dank that'll a motherfucker think, I for living
I am Mr. Shadow, Beyond Entertainment the
All My dawgs but all I do is rest
so when you smoke me and Diablo
Motherfuckers bring you own, stoned like a cloud nine
Beep as I recline, getting high fuck one
Mind elevated banging daily on streets
Where my soldiers for keeps
And the grim always rips, shady sons of sluts
put me in a bag, but I got that .45Mag
Ready to shoot me a rat, strap on my waist line
Fool you wanna test mine come meet a
Feell the heat and see that I never time
Ain't no next time, bitch I roll in the
Shit is so fucken hected, my momma is wearing a vest
Test my and feel the pain, brain cell killing every day
Drug dealing to get payed so fuck you, all the same

[Mr.
One, two many motherfuckers wanna me
They think there scaring me, they just daring me
To reach for my motherfucking weapon. stop
the residential section, presidential everything
From San Diego To Japan, Entertainment
Be fucking up the program, no damn cop is gonna stop me smoking
We are already motherfucker that I"m joking, bullet poking
Straight on the otherside
Fuck murder I'ma go and for a homocide
Wicked, why do try to get sick
If they know that It don't to shit
let the people know we get lethal with weapons
Who accept to this evil lyrical
Sur O' Este, is all I know
no more blunts were headed to the liquor store