Luyện nghe bài hát Morning Mourning

Is this it, Priest? The Pope's new
A few bitches and a handful of rag-tags?

Now, now, Bill...
you swore this was a battle warriors,
not a bunch of Miss
So warriors is what I

A cold heart and a hot is not love
Them boys'll pop up, you chopped up
There's a lot of pussy
But not us
Got cuffed, why you I'm frontin' in a drop truck
Grindin', I work real hard, it pot luck
'Lotta work in the pot, couple was shot up
The glorifying or the horrifying crimes
But the more I see the soft
The more I'm inclined
To let the real know it's all about the shine
Let em get it in the sun, get your gun when the fall
to tell the goons meet the Ghost by the pool hall
'Cause when the rules get lost, it's a fool's

Take a smart man to get in on the course
Singin' you were never by Lou Ross
Thinkin' can I Now the crib got two floors
snooze off, nor take my shoes off
'Lotta niggas is rude, shit'll throw your mood off
niggas is cruel, tryna' cut your fuel off
Watch your die, no jump for you
They ain't you up
But I bet you got a pump for you

Right he said he would dump for you
Then he went and left you for
they on for you
Maybe you blind
Or maybe you just fine with gettin'
you pussy by design, what!

Mama told me to in the morning
I'm here in the place tonight
God forbid we don't make it to the
In the rain that I die, could be found in my mom's
See the pain her veil while she moaning
Don't wait to pray 'til the
you may not make it home

Yeah, you die if you violate, dilate
Knowing weed tryin'
Thirty-eight in my size win the tri-state
Swim with the sharks, you a or you live bait
Considered a titan although I'm five-eight
Born in the jungle, made it out, I survived
Run gorillas, bang my chest like I'm a primate
Consider me a land pirate that knows the pie
Get lined without a
at your medulla for a lil' bit of moolah
Found his chopped up in mexico in the cooler
Right to a shooter and his best friend
It ain't chess but they put him in, check
If you the math on the wrath, he is less than
From the side, better hustle on the west end
Pain and the stress gonna you if it's kept in
nigga

Mama told me to pray in the
I'm stuck in the place tonight
God we don't make it to the mornin'
In the that I die, could be found in my mom's eyes
See the pain under her veil she moaning
Don't wait to pray 'til the
'Cause you may not make it