Luyện nghe bài hát So Far To Go

So far to go
We gotta keep on pushing, on

1 - Trae The Truth]
I'm on a vacation
Until my tires go
Or everything up and gonna fall off track
me like a Kodak
Re-up, nigga, they that
Feeling like I got shit
Work in of a throwback
I'm cold up in this
out it all day
Trying to get this
And that 8 in all grey
Haters say it's over but you can tell them I'm
with the books
? a Smith &a Wesson
to make it to the top, 100,000 miles away
Somewhere in Gabon, where guerillas known to fly
to the floor, I don't know where I'm headed
But I know if I'm headed somewhere that for me, then you can get it
from losing focus, sick is from insane
Tell em I'm coming for it, stomach said the same
I'm nothing like a loser, knew I was 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 make it though

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

2 - Meek Mill]
I used to play the corner a 40 on my hip
Hanging in my ? how I'm get up out this bitch
Coppers spedning erry minute, I was dirty as a
I used to it in the crib and write my raps up in the room
Trying to a dream
Who that I'd be cover of these magazines
Fresh from a jail cell, greasier Vaseline
I went to BET from running around with machines
Busting and ducking shots with killers right in back of me
I never had a choice, I really spoke a lot
I never had a voice I started making noise
I went from running with my boys to crushing niggas the world
Them bitches used to turn me but now
I'm f-cking all them girls, yeah. I'm from a city these
doomed. I was upset my father died and turned a young'n?.
For every killer, that was killed, there go another
So every track they send my way I'm go summer june

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

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

3 - Pusha T]
Even the magazine covers and the articles
I got so far to go
9th-degree black in the Art of Blow
pot and a spoon in my arsenal
School of Hard Knocks, the honor roll
7 to a key, I was on a roll
couldn't stand it, I took it for granted
Misplaced a bag of and didn't panic
Yeah, on my to the riches
Baby-blue diamonds and them hot yellow
You can't our Christmas
Italian roadsters, yellow stitching
Yeah, what the is y'all pitching?
Hall of Fame the O's Cal Ripken
My hands still in the snow like
Got my weight belt on:
PUSH!

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

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