Luyện nghe bài hát Land of the Lost

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

f/ Marilyn

First (SPM):

He was the son of a dope man, what he saw was what he
He left school, now it's his turn
To rob and steal, but he feels he needs to stop and
'cause deep in his heart he knows God is real
Mama tries, to open his eyes
the way a man lives is the way a man dies
His father's doing twenty-five to
'cause the love of money cuts a knife
Blinding lights, he doesn't which way to go
His best friend just got killed two ago
He writes his Dad the letter that he ever wrote
A note, about how bad his heart was broke
Before the mail, could even reach his cell
The boy was at a neighborhood hotel
selling just like his pop taught him
bottom, a muthafuckin' cop shot him

(Marilyn Rylander):

We will....
you...
We will...
Have for you...
A of life....
And now gone...
You a life....
In the of the Lost....

Verse (SPM):

They met when they was teenagers, the tenth grade
She in love, and now he wants to get paid
He convinced her to at the buck naked
And everything she made he would take it
She got a I.D., and a club license
A second life, that she had to in silence
At seventeen, she got the strength to finally him
That's she met the demon
Circumstances led to last dances
It was a cold murder, he made that he really hurt her
Over dumb shit, but he had to take it
She hit the canvas, now she at Saint
Six o' clock services, the nervousness
Of having to at death perfectless
I'm roaches burning the shit out my fingers

Remembering the of the Church choir singers

Third (SPM):
Another Mexican

A trigger happy digger
Set tripper, wig
Itchy finger quick to blast upon a
Vida loca, another word for
Same of skin, but different color rags
Browns putting up in body bags
Every two or three streets is a clique
They got no love for themselves so they living
For centuries we filling penitentaries
plain to see, we're our worst enemy
The smartest, most talented of the
Is all dead or time for a fuckin' Tronza
Geniuses, all meaningless
'cause they can't find a way to break from this
Needless to say, the that I speak of
G-Love, is laying in a grave he dug