Luyện nghe bài hát Cold Cruel Tyrant

I've been working like a so I can make your house a home
I sing until I'm hoarse, and play fingers to the bone
But you the love I bring for you, and you send me out for more
I guess I won't be down on Grape anymore

You're a martyr on a mission, the devil on a dare
With that royal flush you're flashing, you're beating my little pair
I said, Baby, who's your
You say, I call you when I
And don't let that ol' hit you when you go

'Cause you're a cold, cruel
With your heads lined on a shelf
You're a cold, tyrant
But something in me needs you,

It's a hard pan stretch of highway, I'm the hitcher on the
Not so young and dumb, but numb and for a ride
I see your Continental crest that hill, and you slow to my eye
Then you hit the gas and on your way by

That's a cold, cruel
Too tres sous mond to the wealth
cruel tyrant
But I could live without you

That Stalin in you lingers
And when you reign, you really
You play that Little Bossy Finger
But I see now all I want is more and
And more and more and more and more and
And more and and more of you

You can tell me that you love me, if it gets you you need
You can write me off for living, or living, yes indeed
Or you can don that superhero cape and go save the whole, world
But you'll always be Papa's Little Girl

But what a cold, tyrant
But I just help myself
You're a cold, cruel
Who the hell did you get that from,