Luyện nghe bài hát So Far To Go

So far to go
We gotta on pushing, come on

[Verse 1 - Trae The
I'm on a vacation
Until my go flat
Or f-cked up and gonna fall off track
Picture me like a
Re-up, nigga, know that
Feeling like I got shit
in back of a throwback
I'm up in this hallway
out it all day
Trying to get money
And that Audi 8 in all
Haters say over but you can tell them I'm busy
Professor with the
? a Smith &a Wesson
Trying to make it to the top, 100,000 away
Somewhere in Gabon, where guerillas known to fly
Pedal to the floor, I don't know where I'm
But I know if I'm somewhere that ain't for me, then you can get it
Minutes from losing focus, sick is from
em I'm coming for it, stomach said the same thing
I'm nothing like a loser, I was here to win
F-ck if they close the door, knock tonight, I'm in

I make it
I gotta it though
I gotta it
I gotta it though

I'm from the but I still try
Feeling like there ain't a chance but I try
The is all I know
But I got so far to go

[Verse 2 - Mill]
I used to play the with a 40 on my hip
Hanging in my ? how I'm gonna get up out bitch
Coppers spedning erry minute, I was as a broom
I used to take it in the and write my raps up in the room
to chase a dream
Who that I'd be cover of these magazines
Fresh from a jail cell, greasier than
I went to BET from running with Mack machines
Busting shots and shots with killers right in back of me
I had a choice, I never really spoke a lot
I never had a voice until I started making
I went running with my boys to crushing niggas round the world
Them bitches to turn me down but now
I'm f-cking all them girls, yeah. I'm from a where these
Young'uns doomed. I was upset my father died and a young'n?.
For every killer, that was killed, go another goon
So every track they send my way I'm gonna go summer

I gotta it
I make it though
I make it
I gotta make it

I'm from the bottom but I try
Feeling like ain't a chance but I still try
The is all I know
But I got so far to go

3 - Pusha T]
Even the magazine covers and the articles
I got so far to go
black belt in the Art of Blow
Cook pot and a spoon in my
of Hard Knocks, made the honor roll
7 grams to a key, I was on a
Haters couldn't it, I took it for granted
Misplaced a bag of money and didn't
Yeah, on my to the riches
diamonds and them hot yellow bitches
You can't our Christmas
Italian roadsters, high yellow
Yeah, the f-ck is y'all pitching?
Hall of Fame the O's Cal Ripken
My hands in the snow like mittens
Got my weight belt on:
PUSH!

I gotta it
I gotta make it
I make it
I gotta it though

I'm from the but I still try
Feeling like there a chance but I still try
The streets is all I
But I got so far to go