Luyện nghe bài hát Hood Pope

Let me my song, if you feel this shit, mothafucka sing along
It's the Hood Pope, hang low, red rubies and the gold
Young Trap Lord, feel your pain, I be down for my
Drinking Jesus juice, hang low, red rubies and the gold

1]
And we sick, we hurting
Pull a fifth when they murk them
Then off in Excursion
All cause a nigga be
Big shit we earning
A bunch of hooligans churching
I'm the Hood Pope, my children
And I'll be Donny McClurkin
teeth when I'm smirking
Bunch of little kids running 'round need
know that I ain't really perfect
All of these clowns run around this
Lord please is my purpose
Besides these Persians
Popping bottles and popping these models
Please tell me is the Sherman
And I'm my weed, put me in my zone
Demons chasing me, cause want my dome
And I carry the heat, and I sleep with the
Cause I'm in some beef, and they want my

God say "Son, you don't go down"
Now you praying in that trap when you hear that gun

2]
And I you, told you time again
That ain't you gon' your friends
You talking about you riding them
And fighting with them, those ain't friends
You dying, on cement, momma be crying "Don't take him!"
Gotta be trying, but he said "I he won't, ever again"
God, he was a child, he was a good kid for a while
He found the streets and then it got wild, God, I promise, never
God, he is my only child, please don't wake him so he
But all she hear is lonely sounds, now he won't talk again