Luyện nghe bài hát Interlude

Yeah,
out the holy land to holdin' grams
Tra-tra-trappin' out stolen vans with goals and
Lonely man, bein' my only fan
I'm down and up, the touch, the golden hand
in the soil is over oil
Cold-hearted, my boils
The spoils of war are used to take the out the foil
Man these can't reach you, AR's won't recoil
Goddamn, I might a heiress and move to Paris
Fuck the baby, let's go disappear and just perish
Thirty in the gold
I wear it to cherish the from which we inherit
My is McLaren
It's all
Talkin' numbers, you
Don't be embarrassed, I blame parents for even caring
Or not aborting, ah it, it's not important
My vital organs can't tell if it's night or morning
warning, final warning, final warning
Every morning you'll and await mourning
We earn it we burn it to ash
I it urn money
My dog called 40 before he 20
is earned, the rest is inherited
Hashish from Marrakech, all my kush is American
Man I like a therapist, pistol on me like Maravich
I careless, I'm so perilous with all of arrogance, goddamn
Money, hoes, that's something you can't chase
I shit but let you eat from the same plate
If you ungrateful then you ain't
Me and Khaled come from the place
Huh, holy land, holy
Back I was holdin' grams just to haul a Benz
Yeah, holy land, land
My father never was a man