Luyện nghe bài hát City of light

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Verse 1 -
I'm the city of light, with a sky of vanilla,
Known as the of churches home of the serial killer,
And in the summer it feels a hundred degrees,
Where I'm from you might see MC,
the traps trying to escape the map,
Ninety one was my shit I'm to take it back,
To when ran the line and transits ran the gambit,
My memories the paint, let the be my canvas,
Thirteen sitting in a park, wine casks,
whole cars as they went flying past,
I paint so I rhymed to the writers,
They'd laugh, up a smoke, and get blinded by their lighters,
Arts' ran my line evading cop cars,
And we looked up to them like were rock stars,
Paint stained hands and like Manson,
That's not Marilyn, a city held to ransom,
Cans and markers, Road parkers,
Hands of an artist the landscape enchanted,
Until the pigs had all the paint washed,
From our walls, end of the renaissance,
And so the where the colours once played,
Were by the buff, now a sullen blunt grey,
washed, shitty, all grey, all black,
Waiting for the kids of this city to take their back.

Verse 2 -
I'm from the of light, with a sky of vanilla,
Known as the city of churches home of the killer,
And in the winter, the city sleeps in the freeze,
I'm from you might see Pressure MC,
Walking the traps trying to the map,
Ninety three was my shit I'm to take it back,
Got kicked out of school but I would have in time,
With but an ego and rap to get me by,
I swept floors, packed orders, when poor from Porters,
store just to score me a four track recorder,
Fifteen, in the back door to the gig,
Thought I could rip, bro me I fought for this shit,
Cos the city's darker a starless night,
And treats a starter like a piece of meat, greet the carving knife,
the day came when I'd scar consortiums,
I'd lay waiting, stations and parks my audience,
Before we had our made, before we had a DJ,
We'd rock to a beat box, before shit was clichd,
You see mate, I to lay low and gave those,
Better years of my life to roads,
as hell, we did it by ourselves,
The only to this shit is one that time will tell,
So in cos the city invites, jealously, pity and blight,
in the city of light.