Luyện nghe bài hát Purified Thoughts

"Am I a man? ..."

[Ghostface
Take my hands out my you can see my thumbs
Both of them turned green, from the ones
by the glory, word life
Cut off niggaz who killed but couldn't do nuttin for me
Shout 'em out once in the blue and kid too
I never rocked with, laws keep away we cool
I devised my own stimulus, I'm niggarish
I'm tired of eatin those crumbs and licorice
The frame of mind so {?} like the mic
Let the imam pray my head and wash
Thoughts, sterilized, purified,
Watch us gift men and fetch the like barley
If that shit happen feed his whole army
Talkin 'bout the angels and in Somali
Try to stay humble, and my pride
In God I trust, now about the ones on your five
Crisp dollar billin, catch me in a hut in Beneen
Village style, feedin the
Big pots of jasmine tea with
chantin me on like Coachella
Ghostface bom ba ye, kumbiya my
My death day, 24 tomb I lay
Wishin they could me, next to the prophets
Nabi, Lut, Is'haq, Musa, Harun,

"Am I a good man?" (I know)
"Am I a fool?" (We'll see)

[Killah
The takes me, gathering speeds before winds
High currents, {?} places we formin
offering, thrones was there
Man with the 7 crowns on his dome was
walked over rose petals, song from the ghetto
Face froze in gold the pharaoh
A dawn in glory, robe of light, a powerful
As he passed the path, white cost the eyes of thugs
Eternal heartbeat, in the fire in his blood
700 books opened
It breaks to right, they threw the crooks in the
Scared, brass like it grew from goatskin
The chosen has spoken, tablets broken
The smoke hand grabs an
grabbin me gradually draggin me through hell's cavity
This is blasphemy, I fell the jackals be
God felt bad for me but cast me into Sea
draggin his key, Wu-Family's the faculty
K.P., K.P.

"Am I a good man? Am I a
"Am I?"

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