Luyện nghe bài hát The Prodigal Sun Returns

P-p-p the boota, pass the boota
Cause I wanna get, pass the boota
P-p-p the boota, cause I wanna get off
All the fuckers are tryin to dis the kid rock
You can get shot, but first I'm get hot
it comes to rhyms I got a new caddy
Cause you got about as much flavor as a fuckin rice
Babe, ahh don't quit day job
It the way ahh
But on the mic I'm god
And hard for your moneys what I x'ed hoe
I wont sell my soul for some wax dipped in cheap gold
Par 4 motherfucker whatcha do
1 7 iron 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 ain't stealin music, my man
I ain't to crook
Your playin dummy with pride
And you cant tell me shit about a vibe
And all that jive your preachin, borin
God saved my soul, you save the fuckin rain
And I'll you in hell
The son kid rock I rock well
(only time tell)
Well been coast from the midway
grass and sniffin lines
And at first glance you guess no
I make my own homemade wine
Moonshine, red wine, stir it up, it up
Roll it up, light it up, down, pass around
Cut it up, light it up, it up, rock it up
Gimme a pipe and I might smoke it
Object it, it, clean it, protect it
it in, tie it up, stick it and inject it
All night, that's right, pop it it
Set it on your tongue and trip til you peak