Luyện nghe bài hát Hood Pope

Let me sing my song, if you feel this shit, sing along
It's the Pope, chain hang low, red rubies and the gold
Young Trap Lord, feel your pain, I be down for my
Jesus juice, jeans 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 money shit we
A bunch of hooligans need
I'm the Hood Pope, my children
And be their Donny McClurkin
Gold when I'm smirking
Bunch of little kids running 'round need
Lord know that I ain't perfect
All of these clowns run around circus
please what is my purpose
Besides these Persians
Popping these bottles and popping these
Please me where is the Sherman
And I'm my weed, put me in my zone
chasing me, cause they want my dome
And I carry the heat, and I sleep the chrome
Cause I'm in beef, and they want my dome

God say "Son, you wanna go down"
Now you praying in that trap you hear that gun sound

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