Luyện nghe bài hát Land of the Lost

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f/ Rylander

Verse (SPM):

He was the son of a dope man, he saw was what he learned
He left school, now it's his turn
To rob and steal, but he he needs to stop and chill
'cause in his heart he knows that God is real
still tries, to open his eyes
'cause the way a man is the way a man dies
His father's doing to life
'cause the love of cuts like a knife
Blinding lights, he doesn't which way to go
His best just got killed two days ago
He writes his Dad the letter that he ever wrote
A little note, about how bad his heart was
Before the mail, could even his jail cell
The boy was murdered at a neighborhood
selling wholesale just his pop taught him
Rock bottom, a muthafuckin' cop him

(Marilyn Rylander):

We will....
you...
We will...
love for you...
A of life....
And now gone...
You a life....
In the of the Lost....

Second (SPM):

They met when they was teenagers, around the grade
She fell in love, and now he to get paid
He convinced her to work at the buck
And she made dancing he would take it
She got a fake I.D., and a license
A second life, that she had to in silence
At seventeen, she got the to finally leave him
That's she met the demon
Circumstances led to last dances
It was a cold murder, he sure that he really hurt her
Over shit, but he had to take it further
She hit the canvas, now she at Frances
Six o' services, feel the nervousness
Of having to look at perfectless
I'm smoking roaches burning the out my fingers

Remembering the words of the Church singers

Third (SPM):
Another Mexican

A happy ditch digger
Set tripper, wig
Itchy quick to blast upon a rival
loca, another word for suicidal
Same color of skin, but different rags
Browns putting up in body bags
two or three streets is a different clique
They got no love for themselves so they sick
For centuries we filling penitentaries
It's plain to see, we're our enemy
The smartest, most of the raza
Is all dead or time for a fuckin' Tronza
Geniuses, all dying
'cause they can't find a way to break free from
Needless to say, the that I speak of
G-Love, is laying in a grave he dug