Luyện nghe bài hát It's Hard to Be a Saint in The City

I had skin like leather and the look of a cobra
I was born blue and but I burst just like a super-nova
I walk like brando right into the sun, an' dance just like a casanova
With my black-jack and jacket and my hair slicked
Silver studs on my duds just like a harley in
When I strut down the street I can hear heartbeat
The fell back and said "don't that man look pretty"
The on the corner cried out "penny, nickels for your pity"
Them boys down-town, they sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a in the city

I was the of the alley, mama, I could talk some trash
I was the prince of the paupers, down-town at the beggars' bash
I was a pimps main prophet, I everything cool
Just a back-street gambler with the to lo..ose
And when the heat came down it was left on the ground,
Devil appeared to me jesus through the steam in the street, an'
Showed me a hand that even the couldn't beat
And I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat, and it's so to be a saint when you're just a poor bo..oy out on the street

And the sages of the sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm, the eyes fixed straight
ride the line of balancin', hold on by just a thread
Well, it's too hot in tunnels, you can get hit up by the heat
When you get up to get out at your next stop, but they push you right in your seat
And your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to feet
you're out of that hole!, back on the street
And them south-side sisters, sure look pretty
And the cripple on the corner cries out "nickels for pity"
And them down-town boys, they talk gritty
It's so hard to be a in the c..c..city