Luyện nghe bài hát Painkillers

On behalf of Pan Am Airlines, we'd to be the first
To you to New York City
We'd like to thank you for Pan Am
The time is 6:45 a.m. and the temperature is 89 degrees

I've up all night on the redeye flight
The early light, got the skyline bright
I'm in the of a car service
My driver's kind of

'Cause I'm tokin' on a blunt fat
You say, you where you at
I say, I know I am
And if you really want a tip then mister get flam

I ain't tryin' to be rude and I ain't stressin' you
But this right here, it be the breakfast of champs
I've been tokin' on since thirteen years old
And when I look up at my wall, I see and gold

And ain't nobody sneezin' at the money I fold
And I here for your pleasin', so put that shit on hold
Just keep mouth shut and get me to the hotel
And turn the radio up I finish this L

Welcome back to the Seasons Mr. Ford
usual room is ready and waiting
Let me your luggage
If you anything while you're staying just let me know
lookin' out

That's for you, I hop out my car, into the lobby
Everybody's on the floor, it's a robbery
The shit's in progress, I can feel the
I wanna silently to God how did I get in this

They tell me to and get down on my knees
Between my jewels and my cash, I'm holdin' thirty G's
They told me to run it, so I got bold and I
And like Slick said, I knew, I shouldn't of done it

now they standin' over me, watchin' me bleed
Damn, I got to smokin' all this weed
There's a pain in my chest but yo, I be blessed
before I faded out, I saw the EMS

The paramedics, greet me with some anesthetics
They my pain, they screamin' my name
to keep me in the conscious world
I'm thinkin' about my mom, my sister and my

I'm prayin' to God don't let go too far
As they rush me into the St. O.R.
They the bullets out my chest and give 'em back in a jar
Now, I'm wearin' this scar I tried to play hard

Mr. Ford, I'm afraid, I have bad news for you
What are you talkin'
It would appear that one of the bullets grazed your
And damaged the
So are you tryin' to tell me?
Well, it's safe to say, I don't think, be jumpin' around anymore

Yo, this can't to me, I just can't believe it
in a wheelchair, a paraplegic
There ain't no rehab, ain't no therapy
For the rest of my life somebody's take care of me

And people stare at me with in their eyes
And every mornin' I to a life of despise
And every night I think, I might never rock the mic
my brain's fucked up on percacet and vicadin

Might as well be heroin pulsin' my veins
Gotta kill pains or blow out my brains
To free me these chains
I'm trapped in this physical

To walk again, I just might sell my
And I'm only twenty somethin' old