Luyện nghe bài hát Purified Thoughts

"Am I a good ..."

[Ghostface
Take my hands out my you can see my thumbs
of them turned green, from countin the ones
Memorized by the glory, life
Cut off niggaz who killed Bill but couldn't do for me
Shout 'em out every in the blue and kid too
I never rocked with, laws they keep away we
I my own stimulus, plan I'm niggarish
I'm tired of those crumbs and black licorice
The frame of so {?} like cleansin the mic
Let the imam pray my head and wash
Thoughts, sterilized, purified,
Watch us men and fetch the green like barley
If that shit happen I'll his whole army
'bout the angels and peeps in Somali
Try to stay humble, and swallow my
In God I trust, now talk about the ones on your
Crisp dollar billin, catch me in a hut in Beneen
Village style, the children
Big pots of tea with Mandela
Africans chantin me on Coachella
Ghostface bom ba ye, my Lord
My day, 24 karat tomb I lay
Wishin could bury me, next to the prophets
Nabi, Lut, Is'haq, Musa, Harun,

"Am I a man?" (I don't know)
"Am I a fool?" (We'll see)

Priest]
The takes me, gathering speeds before winds
currents, {?} places we formin wings
Kings offering, thrones was
Man with the 7 on his dome was near
Feet walked over rose petals, song from the
Face froze in gold the pharaoh
A in glory, robe of light, a powerful cherub
As he passed the path, white cost the eyes of thugs
Eternal heartbeat, in the dark fire in his
700 books were
It breaks to right, they threw the in the ocean
Scared, brass like it grew from goatskin
The chosen has spoken, tablets broken
The smoke hand an omen
Gravity me gradually draggin me through hell's cavity
is blasphemy, I fell where the jackals be
God felt bad for me but me into Caspain Sea
Satan draggin his key, the faculty
K.P., K.P.

"Am I a good Am I a fool?
"Am I?"

He used to in the stairwell
Fast to put the rap on cap, ignite your hair gel
No such thing as a fair
He'll put the bullet out day, delivery airmail
And on this level a thug'll you garbage
No refund, the exchange from the cartridge
the youths is kept comin back with they life earnings
Ready to a deal, soul and pipe burning
The outcome tragic, dramatic
Living rooms to {?}, basements to
from the B, hit the courts from a fiend
who one, who had lit the torch for his team
So sent him gifts, body parts per diem
in a box that held but too dark to see 'em