Luyện nghe bài hát Painkillers

On behalf of Pan Am Airlines, we'd like to be the
To welcome you to New York
like to thank you for flying Pan Am
The local time is 6:45 a.m. and the temperature is 89

I've been up all night on the flight
The dawn's light, got the skyline bright
I'm in the back of a car
My kind of nervous

'Cause I'm tokin' on a blunt fat
You say, you where you at
I say, I know I am
And if you really want a tip then mister don't get

I ain't tryin' to be and I ain't stressin' you gramps
But this shit right here, it be the breakfast of
I've been tokin' on this since years old
And when I up at my wall, I see platinum and gold

And there nobody sneezin' at the money I fold
And I ain't here for your pleasin', so put shit on hold
Just keep mouth shut and get me to the hotel
And turn the up while I finish this L

Welcome back to the Seasons Mr. Ford
Your usual room is and waiting
Let me take your
If you need anything while staying just let me know
Good out

That's for you, I hop out my car, into the lobby
Everybody's on the floor, it's a robbery
The in progress, I can feel the stress
I silently to God how did I get in this mess?

tell me to freeze and get down on my knees
Between my jewels and my cash, I'm holdin' thirty G's
They told me to run it, so I got and I fronted
And like Slick Rick said, I knew, I of done it

now they standin' over me, watchin' me bleed
Damn, I got to smokin' all this weed
There's a in my chest but yo, I must be blessed
Because I faded out, I saw the EMS

The paramedics, they greet me some anesthetics
They my pain, they screamin' my name
Tryin' to me in the conscious world
I'm about my mom, my sister and my girl

I'm prayin' to God don't let go too far
As they rush me the St. Luke's O.R.
They pull the bullets out my chest and give 'em in a jar
Now, I'm wearin' scar 'cause I tried to play hard

Mr. Ford, I'm afraid, I some bad news for you
What are you about?
It would appear that one of the bullets grazed spine
And damaged the
So what are you tryin' to me?
Well, safe to say, I don't think, you'll be jumpin' around anymore

Yo, this can't happen to me, I just can't it
Trapped in a wheelchair, a
There ain't no rehab, there ain't no
For the rest of my life gotta take care of me

And people stare at me pity in their eyes
And every mornin' I rise to a of despise
And every I think, I might never rock the mic again
'Cause my fucked up on percacet and vicadin

Might as well be heroin pulsin' through my
kill these pains or blow out my brains
To free me from chains
I'm trapped in this physical

To walk again, I just might sell my
And I'm twenty somethin' years old