Luyện nghe bài hát Desperado

(INTRO)
uh, chya, uh, uh
dedicated too, this too
it
(verse 1)
uh, i got a full of posies
some devil with a pitchfork keep 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 room of people, how the f-ck i be lonely
i only get money, these tryna clone me
uh, my get heavy, hit the ground 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 that and pass
life is good sometimes, but it just doesn't
a bunch of tracks, you see this mic is like my bag
rock n' roll, and cash, you softer than a bubble bath
sucka ass mothafucka, venom and
doper than the that put chris tucker in dead presidents
rhymes, homie, ridin' beats, i'm on a camel
i'm way too hot to handle, life a beach, i brought my
haha, you a war ? i got a lot of ammo
you ain't a soldier cause you rockin'
young rambo, hundred fans though
and i do it big, you a ipod
fire on wax, look like i candles
you got a show, but you ain't on my channel
that's hbo b!tch, you gotta pay for
hahaha, your channels
i'm f-ckin' kill you
um, shit motherf-cker
yeah, my d!ck
(Verse 2)
hey, ayo, i'm bout to start with ambien
i'm dutch smokin', that's a
but bowlin', i could tear a pin of maryland
see, i'm american, it's damagin'
to be in front of cameras in your underwear with
monroe, look at dumb hoes who want to much
and come close to you straight trippin' when you jump rope
don't the love boat, this business f-ckin' cut throat
and it's gunna crack is you just the wall with one coat
rooms filled with blunt smoke, peep me the fog
these rappers who be hatin' probably to get a job
see, me i'm with my squad, gettin' money, livin'
i know a couple hoes who model, but they though
f-ck a toast, is f-ckin' broke, cut ya throat
judgin' me is nothin' dope, boy you lyin' under
god made the world, why did man the scriptures?
and if he lennon, why'd he go and make a hitler?
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, black and gold
if my skin gets filled up, i'mma tat my
runnin' out of paper, writin' on my
hundred thousand writin' bout my jams
want a number one independent i'm your man
i'mma hit preme and leave you all right where you