Luyện nghe bài hát Killa Klan

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

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

(2X)

[Crunchy
First I'm catch the bitch
Then I'm beat the bitch
Then I'm gonna bitch
Shouldn't of talkin' shit
You who you was fuckin wit
Fuckin wit the fuckin
She who you fuckin
Now I'm at yo chest
This goes out to all of
All of y'all be shit
Slip the up in the gun
Then to bust a nig
a nig, at ya dawg
Watchin' you niggas
Screamin' out a bitch
Mane that's just some petty

Infamous]
I'm into blood baths, I don't, I'll punch ya
hit yo ass wit the fuckin rocket launcher
Can you stand the pain, insane, hunta
Stop long, see ya pulp, till ya
Throw you in the dumpsta, lord a conquer
Lord don't, pistol jump up, if ya want ta
is the unda, buried by yo momma
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 least a grand
Here's the story he got wit some fire arms
By a ass cop wit his siren awn
He was as a felon made it bigga than state
The whole case turned fed him lose his faith
Picture this, now the judge he got hatred for
Because ten ago he was appointed by bush
Republican man, and he don't give a fuck
If the wasn't his that was found in his truck
Prosecutors, lawyers, mane who can you trust
All this palm greasy shit, mane it's than us
you wanna be like fuck it hit the trunk of the car
Deliberation it was time for the to star

Klan (fade out)

RIP deane ~2002~