Luyện nghe bài hát Gotta Lotta Walls

Dialed up his homie Murs on the
Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him what the hell is
Brain freezing up, he know what to do
But the people that know him know it ain't nothing new
Catch five rings, then an machine
Hang up on the beep, up towards the ceiling
Stood up to remember that he slept
So he grabbed his keys and put a hat on his rat's
Stepped up to that big
Somebody said "Today's a good day to die."
But he never really was a big fan of work
So he up the walk by kicking sand in the dirt
A to the strangers, a stranger to friends
He'll a coffee and a pack of cigarettes when you have a minute
it. Paid up. The change, you can keep it
He's a for the morning smile and summer cleavage
If you knew him better he'd ask for some
'cause he's for a reservoire to empty his mind
And there's only so much he can put in a
Gotta talk to who can tell him what the hell is wrong

2X]
And this house has gotta lotta
But only very few mean to you
And this house has lotta walls
But only very few anything to you

No shop to titillate
Far from shallow, so get it
Blacktop, sidewalk,and the
life is priceless and talk is cheap
And as he sits (as he sits) in his four-cornered
Following a tune, born to
Carefully learning and the lyrics you use
realizing that humility is a bruise
Scared love don't make
If these walls could speak, they peep about the fake ones
Watching man, falling off of his plan-
Underachievin' so he can understand. (Crazy reverse speech.)

So, who did tattoos?
That's
And who your tabboos?
That's
If he had a glass pipe, he would smash it and use it to his wrists
But someone already him to it
He would you a picture with his blood
A self-portrait, and morbid
But the of you finding any appreciation are too slim-
Keeps his grim
Tap his foot to the rhythm of sin
Throw his balls to the wind trying to know down these
He'll keep swinging from the hair above his
he finds his soul in the fifty cent bin
The of the payphone escalates
Fake when he takes home one of his dates
He write another hate-poem for you to break
Or stay calm and wait for that big earthquake
Still by the fire and the water
Still to honor this empire's daughter
answering questions you're afraid to ask
Still that God's gonna save his ass

If you knew him better he'd ask for time
'cause he's looking for a reservoire to his mind
And there's so much he can put in a song
Gotta to somebody who can tell him what the hell is wrong