Luyện nghe bài hát Problems

1]
Yea, yea, yea, Dear Mrs. Collector
I know ya just doing your job, mean to disrespect ya
But we've been going through this thang since way
I told ya when I get the dough I would pay
But I got problems babayy...yea, if you only
I got bigger babbayyy
So why ya talkin about the money that I owe, like as if I didn't know man, it don't nothing to me
Cause right now I got my lil boy crying, and my grandmother dying, could you 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 for the next one to call me up talking that shit

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 me fo'?
Is it black Mercedez? (Oh now I get it, I get it, I get it)
Or I'm black? Hmmm, maybe
Hey, tell me why my hands sweatin and I hold my breath everytime that you get behind me
I turn my music down, so you won't hear a sound, man I'm nervous like I got a pounds on me
You me over, you frown on me
your flashlight, tell me what do you see
Thug niggas, drug dealers, its a trip, every nigga in this whip got a mothafuckin college

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

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