Luyện nghe bài hát Cry Out

Yeah,
Yes
I'mma this one, real rap
Because this rap is real, ya
I you ain't too tired to cry
And I hope you know you never too live to die

I grew up where them called them people on us
Think we slangin', but we just got on us
Grindin' all day like we got sleep
Livin' like the videos a treatment on us
Stuck in the like they poured cement on us
birds still shittin' on us, government still quittin' on us
Lost a few homies and the still sittin' on us
So we got their writtin' on us
folks still spittin' on us
And bitch ass police canines, teeth still grittin' on us
But we smoke, still gettin' on us
All the bitches still on us
I remember well, Beezy a L
ain't here. Where's Beezy at? Beezy got killed
And that was my nigga, I go way back wit my
But I know that's how it my nigga
Shit is deeper than this rappin' my nigga
But now they all rappin', my niggas, so now I make it happen
So I'mma play the captain, sail boat my nigga
No fingas I'm snappin', happy for my nigga Lil'
'Cause even though we couldn't, The Lord him
time we seen him was when Katrina hated
Found his body like a month later, in peace boy
He was a boy, and so was Wesy West
He was a good nigga, so I know he
And his is a princess
shit is harder than a bench press
But I'mma keep goin', and I I got a lump in my throat
But I'mma keep on pumpin' the
So if I cry don't stop the
I feel my heart just stopped the beat
My nigga Lil' Derrick is to cop a key
Either or load the gat and go pop a G
And because of that he's a name in a rhyme of mine
I his family and his mama's fine
So much shit just sit on this mind of
I think it all the time
I drink about it all the
I back to back
'Cause if my thoughts got to me I'd be in rap
Or I'd be in the can, God I had dreams of being the man

And fuck a man with a
'Cause he ain't to a man on the edge
The five-o killed Naughty, good boy
Man you woulda thought they killed Bread
'em up face down on the lawn
Not to mention with his on
Not to mention had plain clothes on
And the goes on
But nobody do 'bout it
The jailhouse and the is too fuckin' crowded
And at an all time high
Everybody gotta hate, just a fuckin' iPod
Shit and they tried to burn my up
But I got my gun license, I got my up
I'm ready to like a camera
Stay still I'mma have to write my will this summer
'Cause if they kill me, I'mma kill this summer

And you can put on my late father
Or my late grandmother, Ms. Mercedes
Or my grandfather Bosock
The old man 'till his heart stopped
And all I know my real pops is that he had money
No bank account, that brown paper bag
Yeah he might hit me off wit a little brag
But the still wouldn't be a dad for me
But look how I out I hope he glad for me
But that's why I see him I acts mad funny,
'Cause a joke to me
Don't message, don't call, talk to me
It's just me and my how it's suppose to be
And I make sure she paid like she for me
And I know she all hope for me
And I ever want to see her mope for me
Hopefully, but truthfully there is a day due for me
But we gone pray as far as the future sees
You are to the future Weezy F. Baby