Luyện nghe bài hát Purified Thoughts

"Am I a good ..."

Killah]
Take my out my pockets 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 do nuttin for me
Shout 'em out every once in the and kid too
I never with, laws they keep away we cool
I devised my own stimulus, I'm niggarish
I'm of eatin those crumbs and black licorice
The of mind so {?} like cleansin the mic
Let the pray over my head and wash
Thoughts, sterilized, purified,
Watch us gift men and fetch the like barley
If that shit happen I'll feed his whole
Talkin 'bout the angels and in Somali
Try to stay humble, and swallow my
In God I trust, now talk the ones on your five
Crisp dollar billin, catch me in a little hut in
style, feedin the children
Big pots of tea with Mandela
chantin me on like Coachella
Ghostface bom ba ye, kumbiya my
My day, 24 karat tomb I lay
Wishin they 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)

[Killah
The Lord 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 rose petals, song from the ghetto
froze in gold like the pharaoh
A dawn in glory, robe of light, a powerful
As he passed the path, doves cost the eyes of thugs
Eternal heartbeat, in the dark fire in his
700 books opened
It breaks to right, they threw the crooks in the
Scared, brass hair like it grew goatskin
The has spoken, tablets were broken
The smoke hand an omen
Gravity grabbin me gradually draggin me through cavity
This is blasphemy, I fell where the be
God bad for me but cast me into Caspain Sea
Satan his key, Wu-Family's the faculty
K.P., K.P.

"Am I a man? Am I a fool?
"Am I?"

He used to sling in the
Fast to put the rap on thinking cap, ignite your gel
No such thing as a sale
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
Where the is kept comin back with they life earnings
to make a deal, soul and pipe burning
The tragic, household dramatic
Living rooms to {?}, to attics
Support the B, hit the courts from a fiend
who betrayed one, who had lit the for his team
So sent him gifts, body parts per diem
in a box held prints but too dark to see 'em