Luyện nghe bài hát Interlude

Yeah,
out the holy land to holdin' grams
Tra-tra-trappin' out stolen vans with and plans
Lonely man, remember my only fan
I'm down and up, the Midas touch, the golden
Blood in the is over oil
Cold-hearted, my blood
The spoils of war are used to the drugs out the foil
Man these arms can't reach you, AR's recoil
Goddamn, I might marry a heiress and to Paris
Fuck the carriage baby, let's go disappear and perish
karats in the gold
I wear it to cherish the from which we inherit
My is McLaren
It's all
numbers, you incoherent
Don't be embarrassed, I blame your parents for caring
Or not aborting, ah it, it's not important
My vital organs can't tell if it's night or morning
Final warning, final warning, warning
Every morning awake and await mourning
We it then we burn it to ash
I it urn money
My dog 40 before he turned 20
is earned, the rest is inherited
Hashish come from Marrakech, all my is American
Man I feel like a therapist, pistol on me Maravich
I careless, I'm so perilous with all of this arrogance,
Money, hoes, something that you can't chase
I ain't shit but let you eat from the same
If you ungrateful you ain't great
Me and come from the same place
Huh, holy land, land
Back when I was holdin' grams to haul a Benz
Yeah, land, holy land
My never was a holy man