Luyện nghe bài hát Ya Got Trouble

Well, ya got trouble, my friend, here,
I say, trouble here in River City.
Why sure I'm a player,
Certainly proud I say
I'm always mighty to say it.
I consider the hours I spend
With a cue in my are golden.
you cultivate horse sense
And a head and a keen eye.
Did ya ever take and try to
An iron-clad leave to
a three-rail billiard shot?
But as I say,
It judgement, brains, and maturity to score
In a baulk game,
I say that any boob kin
And shove a in a pocket.
And they call sloth.
The big step on the road
To the depths of
I say, first, medicinal wine a teaspoon,
Then from a bottle.
An' the next ya know,
son is playin' for money
In a suit.
And list'nin to some big Jasper
Hearin' him tell horse-race gamblin'.
Not a wholesome race, no!
But a race where they set down on the horse!
Like to see stuck-up jockey'boy
on Dan Patch? Make your blood boil?
Well, I say.
Friends, let me tell you I mean.
You got one, two, three, four, five, six in a table.
Pockets mark the diff'rence
a gentlemen and a bum,
With a "B,"
And that rhymes with "P" and stands for pool!
And all week long your City
Youth'll be away,
I say your young be frittern!
Frittern their noontime, suppertime, choretime too!
Get the in the pocket,
Never mind gittin' Dandelions
Or the screen patched or the beefsteak pounded.
Never pumpin' any water
'Til your parents are caught with the empty
On a night and that's trouble,
Oh, yes we got and lots a' trouble.
I'm thinkin' of the in the knickerbockers,
Shirt-tail young ones, in the pool
window after school, ya got trouble, folks!
Right here in City.
with a capital "T"
And that rhymes with "P" and stands for pool!
Now, I know all you folks are the right parents.
I'm be perfectly frank.
Would ya like to know what kinda conversation
On while they're loafin' around that
tryin' out Bevo, tryin' out cubebs,
Tryin' out Mades like Cigarette Fiends!
And all about
How they're gonna cover up a breath with Sen-Sen.
One fine night, leave the pool hall,
for the dance at the Arm'ry!
Libertine men and women!
And Rag-time, shameless
That'll your son and your daughter
With the of a jungle animal instinct!
Mass-steria!
Friends, the brain is the devil's playground!

Trouble, oh we got trouble,
Right here in City!
a capital "T"
That rhymes "P"
And stands for Pool,
stands for pool.
We've got trouble!
here in River City,
here!
Gotta out a way
To keep the ones moral after school!
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble...

Mothers of City!
Heed that before it's too late!
Watch for the sign of corruption!
The minute your son the house,
Does he rebuckle his below the knee?
Is there a nicotine stain on his index
A dime hidden in the corn crib?
Is he to memorize jokes from Capt.
Billy's Bang?
Are certain words into his conversation?
Words like, 'swell?"
And 'so's old man?"
Well, if so my friends,
Ya got trouble,
here in River city!
With a "T"
And that rhymes "P"
And stands for Pool.
We've got trouble!
Right here in City!
Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Rule!
Oh, got trouble.
We're in terrible, trouble.
That with the fifteen numbered balls is a devil's tool!
Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble!
With a "T"! rhyme it with "P"!
And that for Pool!!!