Luyện nghe bài hát Sometimes

Sometimes I think the money
I think the murders and the hurtles of the game
Sometimes I think about the
And all the real trade their freedom in for the fame

Sometimes I about dance, sometimes I think about crack
All I do is keep it real, sometimes I about lames
Sometimes I about my nigga in the fence, doing time
I've seen his son T, he be doing fine
But he still got high every one single visit
On the crack a smile just to ask me how I'm living
If I say I'm doing good, do that his time hard
So I say I'm alright, I'm just tryna see
I love my nigga, he could've been in the
But he chose to be a hummer, so I'm a bands
Court days, lawyer paid, nigga, what you call love
Bow hundred in front of Hummer, man, that's a real
Sometimes I wanna spazz, see pussy pass
Cook up the position that they in so always cash in
I may not be the but damn sure the realest
Man, I do for the streets, I know the dope boy feelings

Sometimes I think the money
I think the hurtles of the game
Something I about the murders
Sometimes I think the game
And all the real niggas trade freedom in for the fame

I think about the poor, sometimes I think about the rich
Sometimes I think about my girl she just another bitch
When I think about the keys then I thinking wise
If any pussy start playing with my candles
Then I to go and get the chopper with the razor
Light a nigga block up like 4th of July, fireworks
Then I'm in the with the powder, prowler
Tryina turn a hundred to a
I just sold a twenty grand worth of flour
And he from my hood so you best get from round
And them young from the hood don't play the radio
just want some action and I'm the type to let them go

Sometimes I about the money
I about the hurtles of the game
I think about the murders
Sometimes I think the game
And all the real trade their freedom in for the fame
Yeah, sometimes,
Sometimes, sometimes,

I think about the game and doing all I can
I never think the labor, I just think about the fans
If I get down like the sound the fuck would be the plan
Guess I'm back the real crib, selling niggas gram, damn
I about that nigga being me, 270 million but he never loved the streets
Us dope salute you, homie made history
Around 100 P drum, no instruments
I about the murders and the shoot outs
I think the landlord made my momma move out
I think about my future but more about my dead homies
Killing the hater, putting the feds on me

Sometimes I think about the
I about the murders and the hurtles of the game
Sometimes I think the game
And all the real niggas their freedom in for the fame
Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes,

Sometimes I think the murders
Sometimes I think about the hurtles of the
Sometimes I think the game
And all the real niggas their freedom in for the fame
Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes,