Luyện nghe bài hát Problems

1]
Yea, yea, yea, Dear Mrs. Collector
I know ya doing your job, don't mean to disrespect ya
But we've going through this thang since way back
I told ya I get the dough I would pay back
But I got problems babayy...yea, if you only
I got bigger problems
So why ya talkin about the money that I owe, as if I didn't know man, it don't mean nothing to me
right now I got my lil boy crying, and my grandmother dying, could you please stop fuckin with me?
Listen here, I aint for no tears, but my brother got a year, and my momma keep smoking that shit
On top of that, I'm broke, please put that in your notes for the next one to call me up talking that

2]
Hey, Mr. Policeman
Hey am I wrong, aint you suppose to the peace man?
I coulda I was driving pretty peaceful
So why the hell is you pullin over me
Is it this Mercedez? (Oh now I get it, I get it, I get it)
Or cause I'm Hmmm, maybe
Hey, tell me why my start sweatin and I hold my breath everytime that you get behind me
I turn my music down, so you won't a sound, man I'm nervous like I got a couple pounds on me
You pulled me over, you on me
With your flashlight, tell me do you see
Thug niggas, drug dealers, its a trip, every nigga in this got a mothafuckin college degree

3]
Yea, my middle to the law, bustin off, tryna touch the sky
My said, "Impossible", but I'mma fuckin try
Plus how he gon' tell me, he dont make the
There's niggas dying everyday, but we don't make the
they talkin bout some thunderstorm, cyclones
Timmy got his bike stole, top story, Woods "be fuckin all these white hoes"
stop snitchin
Cut the commercial, he be texting all the side bitches, hey my
How ironic, on trial for possession of some

My lawyer came to court, man he was higher than the
Hey honor, is you kidding? How you sit above me?
Are you mothafucker, how you finna judge me?
you home you dont cuss, drink and puff like us
These cops is bad boys, baby just like
They hate they jobs and days be fucked up like us
At the end of the day, you niggas just us