Luyện nghe bài hát Locos

?]
Orale
las pilas gwey?..
Este vato tiene un de feria
!? Esta es la mascara
Vamonos. Solo

[Verse 1: & Sen Dog]
and four, and three, and two, and one
And we smash the door with the quickness up
Looking for the crop, and I heard you talk about
try nothin', if you lead me to the [?]
Don't say a word, it'd be over,
[?] smoked out, where the (cash? in the room)
and four, and three, and two, and one
That's how many seconds left your ass is done (click-clack)
Now you the sound, tell me somethin' new
homie here won't hesitate to put a hole in you
(Death threat, get your ass up), a good boy
Would you rather put the out for your [?]
Don't even think about the strap up in your
when I leave you're still alive
In fact, I only want your cash crop, not your life
(you can get [?] crop), but not your life
So settle down, I don't wanna let the metal
Lead the way, give it up and another day
Trees and sacks, backpack full of cash, out the
Hit the ride, my tires screechin' in the back

Sick Jacken]

[?]

[?]

[Verse 2: B-Real & Sen
and dough, and hoes, and hit and run
As we graspin' for more our pockets full
Layin' down the plot, for another pull
Smokin' up the spot while I quit, invincible
Jack your spot and we take your and run
Got my eye on my [?], it's around the way
Searchin' for the dogs, no guards, so it's to play
Judgin' by the odds we can hit it and hondalē
[?] here we
Grippin' outta
Takin' it to other
Homie, go around the
Go in when I kill the
Sack up
Don't mean nothin' with a knife
and four, and three, and two, and one
Now we in the buildin', it all until it's done
Fifty pounds, it all around, yeah we comin' up
Easy pickin', don't be tellin' hoes, fucked up

[Chorus: Jacken]