Luyện nghe bài hát Desperado

(INTRO)
uh, chya, uh, uh
dedicated too, this too
it
(verse 1)
uh, i got a pocket of posies
some with a pitchfork keep talkin' like he know me
i'm psychopathic, low key, my dome piece
get no sleep, ill as fuck, the seem so weak
i stood before an as he told me bout the glory
put me in a of people, how the f-ck could i be lonely
i only get money, these lables clone me
uh, my thoughts get heavy, hit the and crack the concrete.
so, i try to keep em' in my
it's sad to see when that you believe is dead
word to heavy d, and rest in to all that come and pass
life is good sometimes, but it just doesn't
a bunch of tracks, you see this mic is like my bag
rock n' roll, drugs and cash, you softer a bubble bath
ass mothafucka, muthafucka's venom and
doper than the shit that put chris in dead presidents
desert rhymes, homie, beats, i'm on a camel
i'm way too hot to handle, life a beach, i my sandals
haha, you want a war ? i got a lot of
you ain't a soldier you rockin' cammo
rambo, hundred million fans though
and i do it big, you a ipod
fire on wax, like i rock candles
yeah you got a show, but you ain't on my
that's hbo b!tch, you pay for that
hahaha, your channels
i'm gunna kill you
um, shit motherf-cker
yeah, my d!ck
(Verse 2)
hey, ayo, i'm bout to start gambilin' ambien
i'm smokin', that's a strike
but f-ck bowlin', i tear a pin of maryland
see, i'm american, it's damagin'
to be in front of cameras in your underwear with
monroe, at dumb hoes who want to much dough
and come close to have you straight trippin' when you jump
don't the love boat, this business f-ckin' cut throat
and it's gunna crack is you just paint the wall one coat
rooms filled blunt smoke, peep me through the fog
these rappers who be hatin' need to get a job
see, me i'm with my squad, gettin' money, livin'
i know a couple hoes who model, but they though
a toast, y'all is f-ckin' broke, cut ya throat
judgin' me is nothin' dope, boy you lyin' oath
god made the world, why did man the scriptures?
and if he lennon, why'd he go and make a hitler?
i could a photo, but i'd rather paint a picture
of the one lawrence fishburne, we'll shoot up all you
i'm from pittsburgh, that's black and
if my skin gets up, i'mma tat my soul
runnin' out of paper, on my hand
thousand haters writin' bout my jams
want a number one independent i'm your man
hit preme and leave you all right where you stand