Luyện nghe bài hát Hood Pope

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

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

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

2]
And I told you, told you again
That ain't you find your friends
You talking about you riding with
And with them, those ain't your friends
You dying, lying on cement, be crying "Don't take him!"
Gotta be trying, but he said "I he won't, ever again"
God, he was a little child, he was a kid for a while
He found the streets and then it got wild, God, I promise, again
God, he is my only child, please don't him so he smiles
But all she hear is sounds, now he won't talk ever again