Luyện nghe bài hát Represent

G'yeah, how we gon' get on one? (Westside)
Uh, my Bird in the house (N-O-T-R in the house)
I said da foes in the (There's pork in the house)
MC in the house, g'yeah
And this how we gettin (The new style in the house)
To the West, my Gz, to the
To your chest, my Gz, to chest

We puttin it
from block to block, to scale this
From crooked cops to, dope spots, all
Uhh, hot to six folds of strawberries
Hood's tight Fort Knox, runnin thru military
Attitudes, don't try it, Tek 9's
AK's, will be stored in a
as kept, we creep, put you to sleep
No bull-essin, ass Mac 11's keep spittin
Killers they cheat they ass?*
one-times gaffle to my homey Tiny T's battle ground
187's, is for the paper
No ..... kiddin, get peeled in the city
E's bringin you the
Ragtops we sell, oh, from Compton to
Cruisin in my 6-tre wit
Blunt smokin, ta dash from the C-P-D
Do or die for the wicked Westside, the best?
Fake the West as I it on my chest
is where we do it all day
G'yeah, bitch, oh why you come my
"Get Revenge" is the
Crack sacks to, pull jacksta, St.Ives bottles

G'yeah on, uhh
To the West, my Gz, to the
(Uhh, g'yeah, it down for 9-6)

Homies, we're bound, wit the hot 9's
slam my face to the ground
Hot can you set you up
Hollow points, hit the car when, them Gz bust
(Who) stand my definition?
I wrote, gats I tote, is my daily day mission
Kids get caught up in the
Wit the styles that they after
Young guns, to keep it pumpin, gots ta leave sockin
Keep dem 9 rockin
No place is this place I dwell, cross states
House cell mates
souls get torn
1-5-9, I represents us the day I was
been my destiny
Blast to the face so they won't get the of me
To make a big fat (grip)
Land of the, sunshine, Tek 9, we dip
Come me, don't wanna do it, I keeps it jumpin
.44 Mag will keep you stumpin
We again
Them from the C-O-M-P-T-O-N
I'm

G'yeah, (Where we goin?)
To the West, my Gz, to the (To where?)
Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to chest (So waddup?)
To the West, my Gz, uhh
all day, Compton all day
G'yeah (come on, uhh, on, uhh)

Our "Do or Die", we specialise in
hittin switches and dumpin fools in
If it's on, on, regulatin
Player hatin, run your like a poem
Put that down James Brown, I got'cha
Hey fool, I ya
get delivered on platters
Hot heat from under the seat, fools you better
My Uzi a tonne
Stomp and Compton from, g'yeah, day one
Sometimes I got to God
for puttin me in the middle of the land, where homies buck and
For life, Compton for life and not for rap
Stay to the streets, so Gz get it straight
It just got to be way
For my Gz that's, why
around, to put the buck down
Compton 24/7, g'yeah, stay the down
We on the daily
try and fade the West but they must be crazy
I'm

G'yeah (Hey, on)
To the West, my Gz, to the
Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to your
And we sayin no names, uhh
Compton, uhh,
em down, buck em down
em, brrrgh, uhh