Luyện nghe bài hát Tired Of Pain

1

These niggaz listen to I say,
They see da struggle I face,
They only see da I make,
Like da ten pounds of weed I up state,
They say I don't respect but it's just da hustle I hate,
To survive in this game called life, you have muscle and faith,
They say I'm heading for da top this song,
I'm hot wit song,
Da streets gon love me for one,
How can a kid be fun,
get it twisted,
Don't be mad that a nigga wit a like this existed,
I'm gifted,
My is tight and da time is right,
For me to up and shine tonight,
My lookin fine tonight,
in grey and white,
She's beggin me to the night,
So I can lay the pipe,
All my game is tight,
da name,
I'm here to da game,
I pit in work, da nigga got paid, all of a sudden comes da fame,
But it still pours it rains,

1

Come on, on!
up in this,
Come on, on!
Who got a flow like this,
Come on, on! Come on, come on!
Uh, yea, uh!

2

We keep it gangster Monday to Sunday,
Kids on da block, to gun play,
We live life da wrong way, just to get da sun to for one day,
gon die when da kids go hungry,
They rock da T's,
They ain't afraid to kill you for a of Nikies,
I at life as just a strife,
For now I'm till dem cops come and violate my rights,
Shit nice,
I'm of being criticized,
Tired of being seen as a punk in niggaz eyes,
I'm petrified,
How many times I've homicide,
So many die,
me crazy,
I'm da flavor to ya food, call me gravy,
You can't me,
Ikay yo,
I'm to stay yo,
I floatin like an angel on a halo,
Things ain't the yo,
change yo,
Kinda bro,

2

Come on, on!
You what it is,
on, come on!
Come wit da kid,
Come on, on!
up in this,
Come on, on!
Brooklyn! is it,
on, come on!
Jamrock in shit,
on, come on! Come on, come on!
Yea, uh.

3

I live my on da edge,
I da streets, hate da feds,
Carry a lot of weight a sledge,
Why niggaz wanna see me beg,
Bet they me if I'm dead,
I my birthday, never celebrate it,
5th of is my worst day, damn I hate it,
about da kids that never made it,
I out some liquor from them,
And for my niggaz up in da pen,
I'm tryin to live my life, to get it right,
I to god at nights,
He never back, why is that,
On my block roam da streets and idle,
They rollin wit rifles, they da bible,
life is just a strifle,
I do club music,
I do music,
Songs for my niggaz to wit,
When da drop, I got da streets locked,
I'm not,
One of the se called rappers to be Pac,
And I'm not BIG,
I'm a black kid,
Aiming for da sky, million coupes and black cribs,
pull up in da truck,
Kay whassup!
Em broads wanna wit us,
No more wit handcuffs lockin my niggaz up,
We just da block,
Go to thugz mansion, wit Pac,
just my street dreams,
lights, big screens,
big greens,
If I believe,
Will I
So many like me get killed in da streets,
And if I die, who cry,
So many in my life,
at Shyne,
Niggaz at him, he buss back, now he in prison doin time,
The rich sit, don't give a thinking da poor doin fine,
Ghetto kids don't want no degree, they wanna be on da streets crime,
Cuz that's all they know, can't take da no more,
So be on thug patrol,
Ha ha ha...

3

Come on, on!
wit ya boy,
Come on, on!
wit ya boy,
Come on, on!

Kay nigga,
You how we do.