Luyện nghe bài hát The Prodigal Sun Returns

P-p-p pass the boota, the boota
Cause I wanna get, p-p-p the boota
P-p-p pass the boota, I wanna get off
All the fuckers are tryin to dis the kid rock
You can get shot, but I'm gonna get hot
When it comes to I got a new caddy
Cause you got about as much flavor as a fuckin rice
Babe, ahh don't your day job
It the way ahh
But on the mic I'm god
And workin hard for your what I x'ed hoe
Cause I wont sell my soul for some wax dipped in cheap
Par 4 motherfucker whatcha do
1 wood 7 and I'm on the green at 2
1 putt I lyin a birdy in the hole
I the show putt for dough
So it up hoe
I get a lot of looks
I stealin your music, my man
I ain't to fuckin
Your dummy with your pride
And you cant tell me shit about a funny
And all that jive your preachin, borin
God saved my soul, you save the fuckin forest
And I'll you in hell
The prodigal son kid rock I rock
(only will tell)
Well it's coast from the midway
grass and sniffin lines
And at first you wouldnt guess no
I even make my own homemade
Moonshine, red wine, stir it up, it up
Roll it up, it up, toke down, pass around
Cut it up, light it up, sniff it up, it up
Gimme a and I just might smoke it
Object it, sellect it, clean it, it
Suck it in, tie it up, stick it and it
All night, right, pop it drop it
Set it on tongue and then trip til you peak