Luyện nghe bài hát Tired Of Pain

1

These niggaz to nothing I say,
They can't see da I face,
They only see da I make,
da ten pounds of weed I smuggled up state,
They say I respect life but it's just da hustle I hate,
To survive in game called life, you gotta have muscle and faith,
say I'm heading for da top with this song,
I'm hot wit song,
Da streets gon me for this one,
How can a kid be fun,
get it twisted,
Don't be mad that a nigga wit a flow like existed,
I'm gifted,
My is tight and da time is right,
For me to blow up and tonight,
My girl lookin tonight,
Dressed in and white,
She's me to stay 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 here da fame,
But it still whenever it rains,

1

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

2

We keep it gangster from to Sunday,
Kids on da block, to gun play,
We live life da way, just to get da sun to shine for one day,
Niggaz gon die da kids go hungry,
They rock da T's,
They ain't to kill you for a pair of Nikies,
I at life as just a strife,
For now I'm alright till dem cops and violate my rights,
Shit nice,
I'm of being criticized,
of being seen as a punk in these niggaz eyes,
I'm petrified,
How times I've contemplated homicide,
So niggaz die,
me crazy,
I'm like da to ya food, call me gravy,
You play me,
It's 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,
on, come on!
up in this,
Come on, on!
Brooklyn! is it,
Come on, on!
in this shit,
Come on, come on! on, come on!
Yea, uh.

3

I my life on da edge,
I love da streets, da feds,
Carry a lot of weight a sledge,
Why these wanna see me beg,
Bet they me if I'm dead,
I my birthday, never celebrate it,
5th of august is my worst day, damn I it,
What about da kids that never it,
I pour out liquor from them,
And for my niggaz up in da pen,
I'm tryin to my life, tryin to get it right,
I to god at nights,
He answers back, why is that,
On my block roam da streets and idle,
rollin wit rifles, they neglect da bible,
This life is a strifle,
I do club music,
I do music,
for my niggaz to cruise wit,
When da drop, I got da streets locked,
I'm not,
One of the se called tryin to be Pac,
And I'm not BIG,
I'm a black kid,
Aiming for da sky, million dollar and black cribs,
Niggaz up in da truck,
Kay whassup!
Em wanna ball wit us,
No more cops wit handcuffs lockin my up,
We roam da block,
Go to mansion, ball 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 buss at him, he buss back, now he in prison time,
The rich sit, don't a shit thinking da poor doin fine,
Ghetto kids don't want no degree, they wanna be on da pursuing crime,
Cuz all they know, can't take da pain 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.