Luyện nghe bài hát Interlude

Yeah,
Straight out the holy land to holdin'
Tra-tra-trappin' out stolen vans goals and plans
Lonely man, remember bein' my fan
I'm down and up, the Midas touch, the hand
Blood in the soil is 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 marry a heiress and move to
Fuck the carriage baby, let's go disappear and just
Thirty in the gold
I it to cherish the kings from which we inherit
My is McLaren
all numeric
Talkin' numbers, you
Don't be embarrassed, I blame your parents for caring
Or not aborting, ah fuck it, not important
My organs can't even tell if it's night or morning
warning, final warning, final warning
Every morning you'll awake and mourning
We earn it then we it to ash
I it urn money
My dog caught 40 he turned 20
Money is earned, the rest is
Hashish from Marrakech, all my kush is American
Man I feel like a therapist, on me like Maravich
I careless, I'm so perilous with all of this arrogance,
Money, hoes, something that you can't chase
I ain't shit but let you eat from the plate
If you ungrateful then you ain't
Me and Khaled from the same place
Huh, holy land, land
when I was holdin' grams just to haul a Benz
Yeah, holy land, holy
My never was a holy man