Luyện nghe bài hát Hood Pope

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

1]
And we sick, cause we
Pull a chrome 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, these my
And I'll be their Donny
Gold teeth when I'm
Bunch of little kids running 'round nuturing
Lord know that I ain't really
All of these clowns run around circus
please what is my purpose
Besides these Persians
Popping these and popping these models
Please tell me is the Sherman
And I'm my weed, put me in my zone
Demons chasing me, cause they want my
And I the heat, and I sleep with the chrome
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
ain't you gon' find your friends
You about you riding with them
And fighting them, those ain't your friends
You dying, lying on cement, be crying "Don't take him!"
Gotta be trying, but he said "I promise he won't, 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, never
God, he is my only child, please don't him so he smiles
But all she hear is lonely sounds, now he talk ever again