Luyện nghe bài hát The Purge

[Intro: Barthe]
We are dying, we are
Are we gonna die? Are we die?
We are

[Verse 1:
a blunt, throw on Nas, collect my thoughts
Blow the candles out as I contemplate in the
Dumpin' on the fuckin' Time magazine
Tryna burn a hole Israel and Palestine
All this world news, all these dead
All kids dying, the talk of illuminati
As I'm ink, I get a call from Irv Gotti
Say "Keep spittin' cause you do it's like a 12-gauge shotty
Got machetes and them loaded up
Got them Xany's and lean in my cup
politician's can come up missin', I'm on a mission
You hear them gun shots, now mother listenin'
Feel that you can take their life cause ain't got a pot to piss in
Raise the Christian, you for these kids as victims
the system
You give a kid 30 cent and think you sponsor
I feed a by myself nigga Compton comin'

[Hook: Barthe (Game)]
We are dying, we are
(Sometimes I purge)
We are
(Sometimes I purge)
We are dying, some times I gotta
(Sometimes I wanna)
We're on a purge
(Sometimes I wanna)

2: Game]
What if we ran through Hills, got 70 kills
down Rodeo in the Chevy with pills
And pop one, load 12 in the eagle
And shot one, Donald hopped in his Benz
I got one, on the back of his dome
Palm sweaty on the of the chrome
That's my
So we Sandusky, purge Zimmerman
Purge every mother fucker women in
Purge niggas killin' kids, back to in two vans
Me and my mercenaries, middle of Sudan
babies bodies, long as I got two hands
Long as I got two feet, and my crew deep
We purge for the families, they deaths in vein now
Crash my ass, niggas know who shot that down
298 innocent lives
Flyin' on wings all the way to heaven
And so we

[Verse 3:
going to the stores without cops harrasing
Imagine Mike Brown walkin', them same just passed 'em
I'm smokin' hash, and let me ash it before I talk in past
I hope his mama tears is like acid to your badges
2 shots in his brain, 4 in his
Thinkin' 'bout his casket in Phantom, swear I almost crashed it
That's why I'm to Ferguson with this German luger
Cause I'm probably like Nelson Mandela than Martin Luther
More Ice T than Ice Cube, I'm a cop killer
Murder all the cops, then the cops will probably killin'
On my knees prayin', wish my nigga Pac was
But he fell victim to the Division, purge
Cops killed Biggie, cops beat up Rodney
We tore up the city nigga,
Or just stand there J. Cole and shoot at cops in the same spot till the case closed, purge

[Outro:
This song is dedicated, to my engineer Jus' wife, Carey Jean who passed away June 28th at 1.45 pm to stomach cancer, 2 days before his son Harlem's 11th birthday. Crazy how he mournin' his wife's death and I'm celebrating my son's life. I'll never understand death, shit. Sometimes it's a struggle to understand life, shit crazy. I'll never understand. Can't stop fightin' to survive though, but what we fightin' for when we eventually all die though, purge. Eventually we all victims of the purge. Us killers, keepin' us alive. It's a question nobody got the answer to. So PURGE!