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 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 be lurking
Big shit we earning
A bunch of hooligans need
I'm the Hood Pope, my children
And I'll be their McClurkin
Gold teeth I'm smirking
Bunch of kids running 'round need nuturing
Lord know that I ain't perfect
All of these run around this circus
Lord please what is my
Besides these Persians
these bottles and popping these models
Please me where is the Sherman
And I'm my weed, put me in my zone
Demons chasing me, cause they want my
And I carry the heat, and I sleep the chrome
I'm in some beef, and they want my dome

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

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