Luyện nghe bài hát Cry Out

Yeah,
Yes
I'mma call one, real rap
Because rap is real, ya know?
I hope you ain't too to cry
And I you know you ain't never too live to die

I grew up where them people called them on us
Think we slangin', but we just got on us
Grindin' all day like we got sleep
Livin' like the videos a treatment on us
Stuck in the like they poured cement on us
Ghetto birds still shittin' on us, government quittin' on us
Lost a few and the grief still sittin' on us
So we got their writtin' on us
White still spittin' on us
And them bitch ass canines, teeth still grittin' on us
But we smoke, still gettin' on us
All the bitches still on us
I well, Beezy roll a L
Beezy ain't here. Beezy at? Beezy got killed
And that was my nigga, I go way back wit my
But I know that's how it my nigga
is much deeper than this rappin' my nigga
But now they all rappin', my niggas, so now I must it happen
So I'mma the captain, sail boat flappin' my nigga
No fingas I'm snappin', happy for my nigga Lil'
even though we couldn't, The Lord saved him
Last we seen him was when Katrina hated
Found his body a month later, rest in peace boy
He was a East boy, and so was Wesy
He was a good nigga, so I know he
And his is a princess
This shit is than a bench press
But I'mma goin', and I swear I got a lump in my throat
But I'mma keep on the flow
So if I cry don't the beat
I feel like my heart just the beat
My Lil' Derrick is quick to cop a key
that or load the gat and go pop a G
And because of that he's just a in a rhyme of mine
I his family and his mama's fine
So much shit just sit on this of mine
I think it all the time
I about it all the time
I smoke to back
'Cause if my thoughts got to me I'd be in rap
Or I'd be in the can, thank God I had of being the man

And fuck a man a badge
'Cause he ain't to a man on the edge
The five-o killed Naughty, good boy
Man you thought they killed Corn Bread
Shot 'em up face on the lawn
Not to mention his handcuffs on
Not to mention they had clothes on
And the complaint on
But nobody do nothin' it
The jailhouse and the morgue is too crowded
And haters at an all high
Everybody hate, just like a fuckin' iPod
Shit and they tried to burn my up
But I got my gun license, I got my up
I'm ready to like a camera
Stay still mothafucka I'mma have to my will this summer
'Cause if they don't kill me, I'mma kill this

And you can put that on my father
Or my late grandmother, Ms. Carter
Or my grandfather Larry
The old man 'till his heart stopped
And all I know 'bout my real is that he had money
No bank account, that brown bag money
Yeah he might hit me off wit a brag money
But the nigga wouldn't be a dad for me
But look how I out I hope he glad for me
But that's why I see him I acts mad funny,
'Cause a joke to me
Don't message, call, don't talk to me
It's just me and my mama how it's to be
And I sure she paid like she rode for me
And I she gets all hope for me
And I ever want to see her mope for me
Hopefully, but truthfully is a day that's due for me
But we gone pray as far as the future sees
You are listenin' to the future Weezy F.