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 devil with a pitchfork keep talkin' he know me
i'm psychopathic, low key, my hyperactive piece
get no sleep, ill as fuck, the seem so weak
i stood an angel as he told me bout the glory
put me in a room of people, how the f-ck could i be
i only get money, these lables clone me
uh, my thoughts get heavy, hit the ground and the concrete.
so, i try to keep em' in my
it's sad to see when everything that you believe is
word to d, and rest in peace to all that come and pass
is good sometimes, but it just doesn't last
a of tracks, you see this mic is like my punchin' bag
rock n' roll, and cash, you softer than a bubble bath
ass mothafucka, muthafucka's venom and
doper the shit that put chris tucker in dead presidents
desert rhymes, homie, ridin' beats, i'm on a
i'm way too hot to handle, life a beach, i brought my
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 nano
fire on wax, look like i candles
yeah you got a show, but you on my channel
that's hbo b!tch, you gotta pay for
hahaha, channels free
i'm gunna kill you
um, imax'n shit
yeah, my d!ck
(Verse 2)
hey, ayo, i'm bout to start gambilin' ambien
i'm dutch smokin', that's a
but f-ck bowlin', i could tear a pin of
see, i'm american, apparently damagin'
to be in front of cameras in your underwear marilyn
monroe, look at hoes who want to much dough
and come close to have you trippin' when you jump rope
don't rock the boat, this business f-ckin' cut throat
and it's gunna crack is you just paint the with one coat
rooms filled with blunt smoke, peep me the fog
these rappers who be hatin' probably to get a job
see, me i'm with my squad, money, livin' comfortable
i know a couple hoes who model, but they though
f-ck a toast, is f-ckin' broke, cut ya throat
judgin' me is dope, boy you lyin' under oath
god the world, why did man make the scriptures?
and if he created lennon, why'd he go and make a
i take a photo, but i'd rather paint a picture
of the one lawrence fishburne, we'll up all you hipsters
i'm from pittsburgh, that's black and
if my skin gets filled up, i'mma tat my
runnin' out of paper, on my hand
thousand haters writin' bout my jams
want a number one independent i'm your man
i'mma hit preme and leave you all right you stand