Luyện nghe bài hát Momma Was an Opium-Smoker

(Intro
When my Mother heard that I was writing songs about my mentally ill friends that people were mistaking for the president and the mayor, she said, please Melora please, don't ever write a song about me. My flatulence, my opulence, the way I chase the dragon. I said, alright Momma, I won't. Then I proceeded to write this rather cute homage to my Mother, which covers more the matter of her fat ass and foul drug habits.)

Momma was an opium
She it with a red-hot poker
She would never a bath
We ask her, she'd just laugh
because our momma was an opium

She made it this gentleman, Lincoln
met on a boat, it was sinkin'
When she gone overboard, momma say "No way, oh my Lord
only of smoke am I thinkin'."

Oh, us, Lord
we afford
her destructive
You hear what she says!

She just sit on her fat ass
yell at us, "Fill up my glass!"
She tell us, "How sad,
you won't know your dad."
Oh yeah, my momma was an opium

Go, momma, go
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh

She hide the money and the in the mattress
I how long she's been at this
And I say, "Mom, the gong,
can't you see it's all wrong?"
My momma was an smoker