Luyện nghe bài hát Tired Of Pain

1

These listen to nothing I say,
They see da struggle I face,
They see da trouble 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 life, you gotta have muscle and faith,
They say I'm 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 this existed,
I'm gifted,
My rhyme is and da time is right,
For me to blow up and tonight,
My lookin fine tonight,
in grey 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 pours whenever it rains,

1

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

2

We it gangster from Monday to Sunday,
on da block, exposed 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 da white T's,
ain't afraid to kill you for a pair 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 tired of criticized,
Tired of being seen as a punk in these eyes,
I'm petrified,
How many I've contemplated homicide,
So many 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 keep floatin an angel on a halo,
ain't the same yo,
Friends yo,
Kinda bro,

2

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

3

I live my on da edge,
I love da streets, da feds,
a lot of weight like a sledge,
Why these wanna see me beg,
Bet love me if I'm dead,
I my birthday, never celebrate it,
5th of is my worst day, damn I hate it,
What about da kids that never it,
I out some liquor from them,
And pray for my up in da pen,
I'm tryin to my life, tryin to get it right,
I to god at nights,
He never back, why is that,
On my block roam da streets and idle,
They wit rifles, they neglect da bible,
life is just a strifle,
I do club music,
I do music,
Songs for my niggaz to wit,
da beat 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,
for da sky, million dollar coupes and black cribs,
Niggaz up in da truck,
Kay whassup!
Em wanna ball wit us,
No cops wit handcuffs lockin my niggaz 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 niggaz me get killed in da streets,
And if I die, who cry,
So pain in my life,
at Shyne,
Niggaz buss at him, he buss back, now he in doin time,
The rich sit, don't give a shit thinking da poor fine,
Ghetto kids don't want no degree, they wanna be on da pursuing crime,
Cuz that's all 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.