Luyện nghe bài hát Hood Pope

Let me sing my song, if you feel this shit, mothafucka along
It's the Pope, chain hang low, red rubies and the gold
Young Trap Lord, feel pain, I be down for my people
Drinking Jesus juice, hang low, red rubies and the gold

1]
And we sick, cause we
Pull a chrome fifth they murk them
murk off in Excursion
All cause a nigga be
Big money we earning
A of hooligans need churching
I'm the Hood Pope, my children
And I'll be their Donny
Gold teeth I'm smirking
Bunch of little kids running 'round nuturing
Lord know that I ain't really
All of clowns run around this circus
Lord what is my purpose
Besides fucking Persians
Popping these bottles and popping these
tell me where is the Sherman
And I'm my weed, put me in my zone
Demons me, cause they want my dome
And I carry the heat, and I sleep with the
Cause I'm in some beef, and they want my

God say "Son, you wanna go down"
Now you praying in that when you hear that gun sound

2]
And I told you, told you again
That ain't you gon' your friends
You about you riding with them
And fighting with them, those ain't friends
You dying, lying on cement, momma be "Don't take him!"
Gotta be trying, but he "I promise he won't, ever again"
God, he was a little child, he was a good kid for a
He found the streets and then it got wild, God, I promise, never
God, he is my only child, please don't him so he smiles
But all she hear is lonely sounds, now he won't talk again