Luyện nghe bài hát BRACKETS

Lotta shit happens, like, being in show
A lot of shit happens, like, like, I make a lot of money, you
And I'm really about it
And I'm not bragging, I just wanna say
I make a fuck, it's ridiculous
But wait, wait a minute, a minute
Hey, if my father was alive today, I go home and say
"Dad, I wanna you how much money I made"
You know what he'd You's a lying motherfucker
Jerome Lewis didn't make that money
in here, get your ass out the house
Coming here with bullshit, hah

Niggas hating on me, I ain't to that
Know a couple people wanna shoot for
I say "No, no, no, chill, it no need for that"
Them niggas tryna blow they don't me for that
And if it for them, well shit, I'm cool with that
'Cause how they feel, I got shit to do with that
I just sit back on and watch my paper stack
And trip off how much bread them crackers take that

(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

It's been a long since I have felt this way
something but now, but now
I'm my mind, the days are warm
The are cold, the lost is found, I'm found
Lord knows I need something to fill this
knows I need something to fill this void
Lord I need something to fill this void
Lord knows I need something to this void

Hell yeah boy, I'm a millionaire now
Hell yeah, nigga, they tell me shit now, bro, hell no, fuck that
Bitch, got my first motherfuckin' million dollar check
I'm goddamn lit boy, you as hell
Hold up, it's my phone real quick, it's my
Uncle Sam and
"What's up Yup. Hey, I told you that check was coming in,
I gotchu it came in. Goddamn, I'm a man of my word. Goddamn,
I told you I'ma have it, and goddamn, I'ma it for you. Hell,
shit, damn right. Now, how much was it though? Uh huh. Half?
nigga? You crazy, boy, you crazy. Bitch,
you as fuck. Bitch, bitch, you better suck half my dick!

Yeah, I pay taxes, so much taxes, shit don't sense
Where do my dollars go? You see lately, I been convinced
I guess they say my dollars supposed to build roads and
But my barely graduate, they ain't got the tools
Maybe 'cause the tax dollars I make sure I send
Get spent some teachers that don't look like them
And the be tricking them, them dollars I spend
Got us learning about the heroes the whitest of skin
One thing about the men controlling the pen
That write history, they always seem to white-out they
Maybe we'll never see a man in the White House again
write a check to the IRS, my pockets get slim
Damn, do I even have a say where it's goin'?
Some older nigga told me to votin'
I said "Democracy is too slow"
If I'm givin' y'all this hard-earned bread, I know
Better yet, let me decide, bitch, it's
Let me pick the things I'm funding from an app on my
that than letting wack congressman I've never seen
Dictate my money go,
straight into the palms of some Money-hungry company make guns
circulate the country And then
wind up in my hood, bloody clothes
Stray hit a young boy with a snotty nose
the concrete, he was prolly rose
Now his froze and nobody knows what to tell his mother
He did good at the white man unlike his brother
Who was lost in the streets all day, not rubbers
So now, he got two on the way
Still on covers in his mama house
She can't this shit no more, she want him out
On the of the funeral, just as she's walking out
Wiping tears away, grabbing her and sunglasses
She remember that she gotta file her taxes,

(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)