Luyện nghe bài hát The Purge

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

[Verse 1:
Light a blunt, throw on Nas, collect my
Blow the candles out as I in the dark
ashes on the fuckin' Time magazine
Tryna burn a hole Israel and Palestine
All this news, all these dead bodies
All kids dying, the talk of illuminati
As I'm murderin' ink, I get a call Irv Gotti
Say "Keep spittin' when you do it's like a 12-gauge shotty
Got machetes and them cannons up
Got Xany's and that lean in my cup
These politician's can up missin', I'm on a mission
You hear them gun shots, now mother listenin'
Feel that you can take their life cause they got a pot to piss in
Raise the Christian, kill you for kids as victims
Fuck the
You give a kid 30 cent and think you somethin'?
I feed a village by nigga Compton comin'

[Hook: Stacy (Game)]
We are dying, we are
(Sometimes I purge)
We are
(Sometimes I purge)
We are dying, some I gotta purge
(Sometimes I wanna)
living on a purge
(Sometimes I wanna)

[Verse 2:
What if we ran through Hills, got 70 kills
down Rodeo in the Chevy with pills
And pop one, load 12 slugs in the
And one, Donald Sterling hopped in his Benz
I got one, beam on the back of his
Palm sweaty on the back of the
That's my
So we purge Sandusky, Zimmerman
Purge every mother fucker rapin' in
Purge niggas killin' kids, back to in two vans
Me and my mercenaries, of South Sudan
Carryin' babies bodies, long as I got two
Long as I got two feet, millions and my crew
We purge for the families, they deaths ain't in now
Crash my ass, niggas know who that plane down
298 innocent severed
Flyin' on wings all the way to heaven
And so we

[Verse 3:
Imagine going to the stores without cops
Imagine Mike Brown walkin', them same just passed 'em
I'm smokin' hash, and let me ash it before I in past tense
I hope his mama tears is acid to your fuckin badges
2 shots in his brain, 4 in his
Thinkin' his casket in this Phantom, swear I almost crashed it
That's why I'm headed to Ferguson with this luger
Cause I'm more like Nelson Mandela than Martin Luther
More like Ice T than Ice Cube, I'm a cop
Murder all the cops, then the cops will probably killin'
On my knees prayin', my nigga Pac was livin'
But he fell victim to the Rampart Division,
killed Biggie, cops beat up Rodney King
We tore up the nigga, purge
Or just stand like 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 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, what's keepin' us alive. It's a question nobody got the answer to. So PURGE!