Luyện nghe bài hát Howdy

On behalf of alabama I just say
The heart of dixie is in this
M16, DJ frank white, my name is
world, hello world, hello world

This morning I woke up feeling like I never had a fuckin' dime
Like I didn't up in the back of the bus that's finally mine
Why do I like I never had Marshall Mathers' co-sign sometimes?
Like radioactive failed, well livin' this
I'm even not to believe that I could be one of the top 5
Maybe when I tell myself I'm one of the best, I'm just
When my buddy call and ask, I say I'm just fine
But I like I haven't made it, uncle but I'm just tryin'
Or I'm just not used to having shit I never had
Never stood in the and never said "i got dinner, dad"
Shit, never even had the cash to pay my dad for her back
And [...] I love you, thank you, my favorite dad
And it feels like yesterday like yesterday
I couldn't get one motherfucking fan to come and see me play
When I drove minivan for the [...] without a license plate
To atl so I could play will my demo tape
Yeah, that's on the wall by the county [...]
a friend of mine [...] and that I can't replace
If I'm in [...], he's in [...] and we get a play (church)
This ain't no crew, it's a so get it straight (church)
So father you can tell god to the clouds
And let your sun shine to the minds of my crowd
I know some of these people think I'm a certified artist now
But the butterfly's above and I'm above what I started now
Passionate like a poet in an artist lounge
Hungry like a daddy with a gun and a starving child
If you thought it was a flake, then you just a departed
And if you thought I was coming hard, well you better harder now

And been a long motherfucking time since I felt this homesick as I do now
Yeah it's been a long time, and I just wanna say
Hey! how you been?! amen!
The of Dixie's in this bitch, yeah I'm Dixie witch
But if I don't y all, I ain't got shit
Gadsden...
Throw it up, it's that sound
Much love and I never let you
I might as well be dropped
Back in and cuttin' grass
Or on the side of the road on my fuckin' ass
I become complacent on the [...] level that I'm at
Momma will quit and no poppa will smoke some crack
Lost, I may have, my mind
But it takes a lunatic to pursue shit
Ay fine because I paid the cost
Really more like a fine, but of paying for tickets now
They pay for in line to see me [...]
The in the mic [...]
Two-step in my shoes with a shameless
300 I brought [...]
Around dying for chains [...]
The new south's got a new hope a [...] and a [...]
[...] and [...], the truth's in him, yeah I'm a [...]
Preachers yelling out prophets about
I [...]
I'm a [...], just the beat homey, it's over
Whatever rapper ever say he's a sober
I must be smoking salt, 'cuz I'm out of my mind
I have built roads from the villain, cuz I never run out of lines
The of dixie