Luyện nghe bài hát Some L.A. Niggas

Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this
(West y'all)
Yeah, L.A.
L.A. rule the world nigga
niggas gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin?
Niggas don't peep game, yaknahmsayin?
But this shit come all the way back around
My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on bitch-ass
Yaknahmsayin? You gotta
L.A. niggas, connected all over the world, nigga
Recognize this; peep

Now in my younger I used to sport a rag
Backpack full of plus a four-four mag
G'd up the feet up
Blue'd up from the shoe how I grew up
Loc'n, smokin' and til we threw up (threw up)
At Leimert Park, taggin', fools up
Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' up
You wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up
But don't sleep, y'all niggas to shoot you
Now there's motherfucker with no future
But Time Bomb much when I maneuver, dope like Cuba
Got em Disciples to the Hoover

I'm coming "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose
Smoke big green, call it Bruce
Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop witcha
Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha
And bought a fix
trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch
Here it tick tick tick {*BOOM*}
Wait a minute on, I tell it like a true mackadelic
Weed and cocaine separate, check it
From sundown to -- clown and run up
The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, what?

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and heat
Requirements for each day in L.A.!
It stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
why we act this way in L.A.!

Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast move
They call me cause I spit like gats do
Cock me
Bust caps for my max crew, at
Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's
But I grew up where jack you, harass you
you, for that set you claim (where you from?)
Mash on you for your chain, C.K. B.K
up or flame, I ran wit a gang
I helped niggas get, jacked for Dana Dane's
My pants hang below my
I look humble wanna (yeah yeah)
I bang though, like Vince Carter from the
Don't my time
Fuck a scrap in Cali, AK's and 9's
One-time's, sun-shines, and bitches
Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches

I was raised in the hood called
Where the brothers in the hood, to go Hollywood
for the fuck of it
Anybody hatin' on us can suck a
If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the
Better than yours, driving gettin' head from a whore
It's
Fuckin' me might get you banned from TV
Cassette and CD it's all the whole nine the right time
Multiply, we don't die, the streets lie
What, so neither do I, I'm bad for health
Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and yourself

in the mornin', burglars at my do'
Glock in my dresser drawer
Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the roll
Roll with niggas, who buy by the fo'
And brew's by the
SLAP YOU in the face the bass, Dr. Dre laced
Likwit Kings wit Sedans and rings
Haters the style, but can't find no openings

We roll deep, smoke on drink and pack heat
for survival each day in L.A.!
It don't stop, we mash in hot pursuit from the cops
why we act this way in L.A.!

In L.A

That's how we