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 before an 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, lables tryna clone me
uh, my thoughts get heavy, hit the and crack the concrete.
so, i try to em' in my head
it's sad to see when everything you believe is dead
word to heavy d, and rest in peace to all come and pass
life is sometimes, but it just doesn't last
a of tracks, you see this mic is like my punchin' bag
n' roll, drugs and cash, you softer than a bubble bath
sucka ass mothafucka, muthafucka's and
doper than the shit that put chris tucker in 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 a war ? i got a lot of ammo
you ain't a soldier cause you rockin'
young rambo, hundred fans though
and i do it big, you a ipod
on wax, look like i rock candles
yeah you got a show, but you ain't on my
hbo b!tch, you gotta pay for that
hahaha, your free
i'm gunna f-ckin' you
um, imax'n motherf-cker
yeah, my d!ck
(Verse 2)
hey, ayo, i'm bout to gambilin' with ambien
i'm smokin', that's a strike
but f-ck bowlin', i tear a pin of maryland
see, i'm american, apparently damagin'
to be in front of cameras in underwear with marilyn
monroe, look at dumb hoes who want to much
and come close to have you straight trippin' when you jump
rock the love boat, this business f-ckin' cut throat
and it's gunna is you just paint the wall with one coat
rooms filled blunt smoke, peep me through the fog
these who be hatin' probably need to get a job
see, me i'm with my squad, gettin' money, comfortable
i know a hoes who model, but they ugly though
a toast, y'all is f-ckin' broke, cut ya throat
judgin' me is dope, boy you lyin' under oath
god made the world, why did man the scriptures?
and if he lennon, why'd he go and make a hitler?
i could take a photo, but i'd rather a picture
of the one fishburne, we'll shoot up all you hipsters
i'm from pittsburgh, black and gold
if my skin gets filled up, tat my soul
runnin' out of paper, on my hand
hundred thousand haters writin' my jams
a number one independent album? i'm your man
i'mma hit preme and leave you all where you stand