Luyện nghe bài hát Cry Out (Amen)

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

I grew up them people called them people on us
Think we slangin', but we just got on us
all day like we got sleep insomnia
Livin' like the write a treatment on us
Stuck in the hood like they cement on us
Ghetto birds still shittin' on us, government still on us
Lost a few homies and the still sittin' on us
So we got their writtin' on us
White still spittin' on us
And bitch ass police canines, teeth still grittin' on us
But we smoke, ashes still on us
All the still hittin' on us
I remember well, Beezy a L
Beezy ain't here. Beezy at? Beezy got killed
And was my nigga, I go way back wit my nigga
But I know that's how it my nigga
Shit is 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', for my nigga Lil' Tiggas
'Cause even we couldn't, The Lord saved him
Last time we him was when Katrina hated
Found his body like a month later, rest in boy
He was a boy, and so was Wesy West
He was a good nigga, so I he blessed
And his is a princess
This is harder than a bench press
But I'mma keep goin', and I swear I got a lump in my
But keep on pumpin' the flow
So if I cry don't stop the
I like my heart just stopped the beat
My nigga Lil' is quick to cop a key
Either that or the gat and go pop a G
And because of that he's just a name in a of mine
I pray his family and his mama's
So much just sit on this mind of mine
I about it all the time
I drink about it all the
I back 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 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 killed Corn
'em up face down on the lawn
Not to mention with his on
Not to mention had plain clothes on
And the goes on
But nobody do nothin' it
The jailhouse and the morgue is too fuckin'
And at an all time 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 write my will summer
if they don't kill me, I'mma kill this summer

And you can put that on my late
Or my grandmother, Ms. Mercedes Carter
Or my Larry Bosock
The old man 'till his heart stopped
And all I know 'bout my real pops is that he had
No bank account, that brown paper bag
he might hit me off wit a little brag money
But the nigga still be a dad for me
But how I turned out I hope he glad 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
just me and my mama how it's suppose to be
And I make sure she paid she rode for me
And I know she all hope for me
And I don't want to see her mope for me
Hopefully, but there is a day that's due for me
But we pray it's as far as the future sees
You are listenin' to the future F. Baby