Luyện nghe bài hát My Own Lane

If I die and you my name
I won't cast no shadow, I throw no shade
And if I get to walk along the hall of fame
It won't bother me
Because I'm in, I'm in my own

Own lane, with my own sound, my own look,
With my own money, my own cars
my own bars, with my own trucks,
With my own house, my own chick,
I don't want nothing of
And by me saying that the numbers
I got they say it takes big 'cause the big leagues see me
And I fuck a preposition up for myself as a nobody dude
Coming up Tennessee
Yeah they talk to me I'm a fucking idiot
And can get me a life I can't get on my own
But I don't want the that these airheads live
But I guess I get it through that thick-ass skull
Sony hit me up and said they wanted the
Erased the song that I did with Luke Combs
'Cause don't want him labeled as a racist
And the "Outlaw" don't fit his image at all
So if you on YouTube at the same damn song
His name got erased about months ago
And I was worried if I didn't take his off the label
Someone was come sue me bro
But I never said nothing, I brushed it off,
I was always taught to let go
So "can you get a outlaw" I'm gone?
I'm not but hopefully someone

If I die and you my name
I won't cast no shadow, I won't throw no
And if I never get to walk along the of fame
It won't bother me
Because I'm in, I'm in my own

My own lane, full of black rubber and spray paint, the of muscle cars and trucks with old leaks
Shot stills burning way way on the ridge,
I know where they're all at but I ain't no
I'd be a outlaw than a weak-ass bitch,
That's how you end up wrecked laying up in a
And don't get it, but they single me out,
For being too damn real 'cause I a sellout
Go ahead, away, put the cash in your pocket,
You can be but never ever me bud
I'm normally Churchman, Jack on a Sunday,
A bad motherfucker, God forgives me
Hell, am I saying?
Every angel falls, God made and the weed in my palm
And he gave me the soul to off on my songs
And feed off of the emotion I stay dragging
So with that said when I get to the Gates
a motor in our Chevy with an old tailgate
A bottle of the cut in an unlimited tanker,
Gasoline so clean I possibly drink it
spit flames for my fanbase and my last name,
Underground I ain't even talk about my grave
Talking 'bout the I'll leave laying up in my state,
The man who gave his heart to be a fucking fake

If I die and you forget my
I won't cast no shadow, I throw no shade
And if I never get to along the hall of fame
It won't bother me
I'm in, I'm in my own lane