Luyện nghe bài hát The Falling

Guns, bitches, hoes,
Death and disease, and a bat
S T D's have no name
Down at the clinic with a face shame

Russian Roulette with a flame
slow but in the fast lane
A big nose bleed and a bag of
got the news about the tumor in my brain

Just don't care so we it all the same
Caught my best friend sleepin' with my girlfriend,
Now I'm thinkin' of a way to get slain
Assassins for hire, shall get paid

Two-G, Three-G, whatever it
None of those fools shoulda got me
I'm just about ready for treacherous thing
Hand grenade on the plane looks another

murderin', brains on the floor
You're dead 'cause I you shouldn't live no more
You and made me lose my cool
Where's my Who's the bigger fool?

Road rage, rage, all kind of rage
be lucky if you get to see some old age
Every other a good day to die
Best be careful, if you's your life

You know nothin', you don't see nothin'
You don't be nothin', you don't do
But we all got to be and somebody
But everybody can't be that rich

You the sayin', 'Life's A Bitch'
I got my on the trigger with a nervous twitch
your mouth shut, help me dig this ditch
Don't you be a bitch

I took a blunt knife and cut a piece of my
my sacrifice, my wayward device
It sound mad though, my self-mutilation
Doctor and his very first patient

The God's ain't happy man is praisin' himself
to get to Heaven with that earthly wealth
Blood money, grudge money, budge money
Mass futility, on the guillotine

Meantime I unravel, callin' Saville
Come fix my epitomy I'm bitterly the