Luyện nghe bài hát Morning Mourning

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

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

A cold and a hot slug is not love
Them pop up, leave you chopped up
There's a lot of niggas
But not us
Got cuffed, why you I'm frontin' in a drop truck
Grindin', I work real hard, it wasn't pot
'Lotta in the pot, couple niggas was shot up
The times or the horrifying crimes
But the I see the soft shit
The more I'm inclined
To let the niggas know it's all about the shine
Let em get it in the sun, get your gun the moon 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 man to get in on the smooth course
Singin' you never found by Lou Ross
Thinkin' can I live? Now the crib got two
Can't snooze off, nor take my off
'Lotta niggas is rude, that shit'll throw your off
'Lotta niggas is cruel, tryna' cut fuel off
your ride die, no jump for you
They ain't you up
But I bet you they got a for you

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

Mama told me to pray in the
I'm stuck 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 under her veil while she
Don't wait to pray the morning
you may not make it home

Yeah, you die if you violate, dilate
weed tryin' vibrate
Thirty-eight in my nines win the tri-state
Swim the sharks, you a killa or you live bait
Considered a titan although I'm five-eight
Born in the jungle, made it out, I hate
Run with gorillas, bang my like I'm a primate
Consider me a land pirate knows the pie rate
Get without a ruler
Nine at your medulla for a lil' bit of
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 know the on the wrath, he is less than
From the side, better hustle on the west end
and the stress gonna kill you if it's kept in
Ghost

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