Luyện nghe bài hát Room With A View

(Brother
I guess its no different from any else in the world man, I look out my window i see the whole thing.
One side of the street, is Malone's Home and the
Other side's a library, try hard to picture this shit
Walk where I live at
parents are embarassed to tell you they raise they kids at
you need some half and half of an 8-ball, you can get
Fuck Little Rodney and you'll get all of your ribs cracked
In a location where slanging rock is not seen as a fuckin' recreation but a vocation
And the sellers, and the smokers are both
Got one eye on Minneapolis P.D. they racin'
3 for 50 is the and demand, and the
Twin Cities' American heartland, and
Been busy, masterminds tearing plans
And hoop dreamers ballin' blisters on they hands
With chains danglin' from the
Pain 'em from within
Till' the belt around the arm makes the veins stand at

I try to block it out a bed sheet the moonlight's as a curtain
'Cause I'm not comforted by red and lights when I'm hurtin'
Mommy you yeah I knew but I wasn't certain
'Cause the lenses through which she life wasn't workin'
As a boy she told me wait till' your to come home
I'm 24 still waitin' for my father to home
And some parents only touch they when a whips brought
That's why bad do bad shit, just so they could caught
And get touched, this growing up shit's
That's a big of why were so mixed up
Shit we don't have Bar
We become men the time our father hits us
And we open gifts up
Regina from across the street is beautiful
But for 50 bucks nothing she won't do to you
Used to be pussy now she used up
For that same 50 bucks she got to do new stuff
Whatever it takes for you to take the out
If you don't intervene then a day she'll turn her daughter out
Speaking of kids I'm lunch for my first born
I had the windows wide open 'cause the warm
That's when the greatest hits of Donnie
Got interrupted by a drive-by shooting half a away
Vaheem was in the window, he get hit though
All please due to

I see all this from the desk that I write my rhymes
Pen starts to scribble on it's own my numb
But you can call me urban Norman Rockwell
I paint a of the spot well

I see all this from the that I write my rhymes from
Pen starts to scribble on own my minds numb
But you can call me modern urban Rockwell
I paint a picture of the spot

I see all from the desk that I write my rhymes from
Pen starts to scribble on it's own my minds
But you can call me modern urban Rockwell
I paint a of the spot...well
(outside my window, outside my room. my window, outside my room,i can just feel the soul.)