Luyện nghe bài hát The Purge

[Intro: Barthe]
We are dying, we are
Are we gonna Are we gonna die?
We are

[Verse 1:
Light a blunt, throw on Nas, my thoughts
Blow the candles out as I in the dark
ashes on the fuckin' Time magazine
Tryna burn a hole between and Palestine
All this world news, all dead bodies
All kids dying, the talk of illuminati
As I'm ink, I get a call from Irv Gotti
Say "Keep spittin' cause when you do it's like a 12-gauge
Got machetes and cannons loaded up
Got them Xany's and lean in my cup
These politician's can come up missin', I'm on a
You hear them gun shots, now mother fuckers
Feel that you can take their life cause ain't got a pot to piss in
the Christian, kill you for these kids as victims
Fuck the
You give a kid 30 cent and you sponsor somethin'?
I feed a village by myself nigga comin'

[Hook: Barthe (Game)]
We are dying, we are
(Sometimes I purge)
We are
(Sometimes I purge)
We are dying, some times I gotta
(Sometimes I wanna)
living on a purge
(Sometimes I wanna)

[Verse 2:
if we ran through Beverley Hills, got 70 kills
Ridin' down Rodeo in the Chevy pills
And pop one, 12 slugs in the eagle
And shot one, Donald Sterling hopped in his
I got one, beam on the back of his
Palm sweaty on the back of the
That's my
So we purge Sandusky, Zimmerman
Purge every mother fucker rapin' in
Purge niggas killin' kids, back to in two vans
Me and my mercenaries, middle of Sudan
Carryin' babies bodies, as I got two hands
Long as I got two feet, millions and my deep
We purge for the families, they deaths in vein now
Crash my ass, niggas know who shot plane down
298 lives severed
Flyin' on Aaliyah's all the way to heaven
And so we

[Verse 3:
Imagine going to the without cops harrasing
Imagine Mike Brown walkin', them same just passed 'em
I'm smokin' hash, and let me ash it I talk in past tense
I hope his mama tears is like acid to fuckin badges
2 shots in his brain, 4 in his
Thinkin' 'bout his casket in this Phantom, I almost crashed it
That's why I'm headed to Ferguson with this German
Cause I'm probably more like Nelson Mandela than Martin
More like Ice T than Ice Cube, I'm a cop
Murder all the cops, then the will probably stop killin'
On my knees prayin', wish my nigga Pac was
But he fell victim to the Rampart Division,
Cops Biggie, cops beat up Rodney King
We tore up the city nigga,
Or just stand there like J. Cole and shoot at cops in the spot till the case closed, purge

[Outro:
This song is dedicated, to my engineer Jus' wife, Carey Jean who passed away June 28th at 1.45 pm to stomach cancer, 2 days before his son Harlem's 11th birthday. Crazy how he mournin' his wife's and I'm celebrating my son's life. I'll never understand death, shit. Sometimes it's a struggle to understand life, shit crazy. I'll never understand. Can't stop fightin' to survive though, but what we fightin' for when we eventually all die though, purge. Eventually we all victims of the purge. Us killers, what's keepin' us alive. It's a question nobody got the answer to. So PURGE!