Luyện nghe bài hát Desperado

(INTRO)
uh, chya, uh, uh
dedicated too, dedicated too
it
(verse 1)
uh, i got a pocket of posies
some devil with a pitchfork talkin' like he know me
i'm psychopathic, low key, my hyperactive piece
get no sleep, ill as fuck, the seem so weak
i stood before an as he told me bout the glory
put me in a of people, how the f-ck could i be lonely
i only get money, lables tryna clone me
uh, my thoughts get heavy, hit the and crack the concrete.
so, i try to keep em' in my
sad to see when everything that you believe is dead
word to heavy d, and rest in peace to all come and pass
life is sometimes, but it just doesn't last
a bunch of tracks, you see this mic is my punchin' bag
n' roll, drugs and cash, you softer than a bubble bath
sucka ass mothafucka, venom and
doper than the shit that put chris tucker in dead
desert rhymes, homie, ridin' beats, i'm on a
i'm way too hot to handle, life a beach, i my sandals
haha, you a war ? i got a lot of ammo
you ain't a cause you rockin' cammo
young rambo, hundred fans though
and i do it big, you a nano
on wax, look like i rock candles
yeah you got a show, but you on my channel
that's hbo b!tch, you pay for that
hahaha, channels free
i'm gunna f-ckin' you
um, shit motherf-cker
yeah, my d!ck
(Verse 2)
hey, ayo, i'm bout to gambilin' with ambien
i'm smokin', that's a strike
but f-ck bowlin', i tear a pin of maryland
see, i'm american, apparently damagin'
to be in front of in your underwear with marilyn
monroe, look at dumb hoes who want to much
and close to have you straight trippin' when you jump rope
don't rock the love boat, business f-ckin' cut throat
and it's crack is you just paint the wall with one coat
rooms filled with smoke, peep me through the fog
these rappers who be probably need to get a job
see, me i'm with my squad, gettin' money, livin'
i know a couple who model, but they ugly though
f-ck a toast, y'all is broke, cut ya throat
judgin' me is nothin' dope, boy you lyin' under
god the world, why did man make the scriptures?
and if he created lennon, why'd he go and make a
i could take a photo, but i'd rather a picture
of the one lawrence fishburne, shoot up all you hipsters
i'm from pittsburgh, that's and gold
if my skin filled up, i'mma tat my soul
runnin' out of paper, writin' on my
hundred thousand haters bout my jams
a number one independent album? i'm your man
i'mma hit preme and leave you all where you stand