Luyện nghe bài hát Tore Up

The time I see you is when we're in a crowd,
you're you're friends and I'm
with mine, the musics loud.
You used to be the girl that go out on the town,
Now you have these crazy nights on instagram you about
After the smoke, on the midtown strip.
When I'm home alone, you're out with friends.

I still get tore up, I get tore about it (up about it)
I still get tore up, I get tore up (about it)
I still get tore up, I still get tore up about it(up it),

I still get tore up about it up about it up about it up it

Uh, we ain't as young as we once was.
Back I had no tattoos, no ID to get in clubs.
We walked broadway at the
lights and night life that we seen.
Breathing in those toxic fumes from busses on 2nd ave.
Trying to into the spots where
all the big used to roam around.
I was 130 pounds soakin wet but I felt like when you was around.
A long way from those roads
and a small taste of that life.
Sweet smell of that Jack on cigarette smoke and neon lights.
With L in the background comin' from a country cover band and
a homeless lady on a corner
killin' it she plays that violin.
Johnny and June on them alley walls we slapped up way back when
We didn't know of our life just
6 months in from our license.
And If these words polaroids these pictures would be priceless.
These thoughts up in my head keep replaying their timeless.
So you ride up on the town

choose the times that we had
But the frames I'd like truth down the strip our music, I bad.

I still get tore up, I get tore about it (up about it)

I still get tore up, I still get up (about it)
I still get tore up, I still get up about it (up about it)
I still get up about it up about it up about it up about it

Uh, Yeah not as as we was right.
Now been kicked out of every bar
the one I'm sitting in tonight.
I had about 12 and 2 shots
now I'm in the back smokin' pot.
Put a stone cold into a fight
with jockey dudes who get roughed up.
But it's all good that Jack Daniel's got me fucked up always.
I'm gonna leave this thing on
it lookin' like I a saw blade.
Got on my white suede,
car parked on broadway no lady in the
passenger 'cause the choices that I made.
I the Chevy it's always her so

I'm bumpin' through them waves.
One in that pistol Smith and Wesson come take the pain away
I talk to my self and tell my sober self I can't take me
so I pull the gun on my half like why you always blamin' me

I still get tore up, I still get about it (up about it)
I get tore up, I still get tore up (about it)
I still get up, I still get tore up about it (up about it)
I still get up about it up
about it up it up about it