Luyện nghe bài hát Cry Out (Amen)

Yeah,
Yes
I'mma this one, real rap
Because this rap is real, ya
I hope you too tired to cry
And I hope you know you never too live to die

I grew up where them people them people on us
Think we slangin', but we just got on us
all day like we got sleep insomnia
Livin' like the videos a treatment on us
Stuck in the like they poured cement on us
Ghetto still shittin' on us, government still quittin' on us
Lost a few homies and the grief sittin' on us
So we got their names on us
folks still spittin' on us
And them bitch ass police canines, teeth still on us
But we smoke, still gettin' on us
All the still hittin' on us
I remember well, roll a L
Beezy here. Where's Beezy at? Beezy got killed
And that was my nigga, I go way wit my nigga
But I that's how it happened my nigga
Shit is much deeper than this my nigga
But now all rappin', my niggas, so now I must make it happen
So I'mma play the captain, sail flappin' my nigga
No fingas I'm snappin', happy for my nigga Tiggas
even though we couldn't, The Lord saved him
Last time we seen him was when hated
Found his body a month later, rest in peace boy
He was a boy, and so was Wesy West
He was a good nigga, so I he blessed
And his daughter is a
This is harder than a bench press
But keep goin', and I swear I got a lump in my throat
But keep on pumpin' the flow
So if I cry stop the beat
I feel like my heart stopped the beat
My nigga Lil' is quick to cop a key
Either or load the gat and go pop a G
And of that he's just a name in a rhyme of mine
I pray his and his mama's fine
So much shit just sit on this of mine
I think about it all the
I drink about it all the
I smoke back to
'Cause if my got to me I'd be in this rap
Or I'd be in the can, thank God I had dreams of the man

And a man with a badge
'Cause he shit to a man on the edge
The killed Naughty, good boy dead
Man you woulda thought they Corn Bread
Shot 'em up face down on the
Not to mention with his on
Not to mention had plain clothes on
And the goes on
But do nothin' 'bout it
The jailhouse and the is too fuckin' crowded
And at an all time high
Everybody hate, just like a fuckin' iPod
and they tried to burn my Phantom 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 on my late father
Or my grandmother, Ms. Mercedes Carter
Or my grandfather Larry
The old man hustle 'till his stopped
And all I know my real pops is that he had money
No bank account, that brown bag money
he might hit me off wit a little brag money
But the nigga still be a dad for me
But look how I turned out I hope he for me
But that's why when I see him I mad funny,
he's a joke to me
Don't message, don't call, don't to me
It's just me and my mama how suppose to be
And I make sure she 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 there is a day due for me
But we gone pray it's as far as the future
You are to the future Weezy F. Baby