🎵 Luyện Nghe Bài Hát: Better Days - The Game

 [Andre Merritt]
  holding this pain inside for so long
  the rain never goes away
 they say I should leave these streets behind 
  its so hard to escape,
 oh lord please send  an angel
 to lead me  of this place,
 send me  away,
 far away
 to  days,
 
 [The Game]
 the first thing I wanna do is say wat up  TI,
 king  the south, now everybody see why,
 im just  and thinking how I survived here,
 and  aint seen dre and eminem in 5 years,
 that sound shady 
 i live a crazy 
 so many black thoughts I had to paint the  white,
 I can tell you about the rims but I aint here  that,
  out like big and pac I fear for that,
 take  lambo and put 6 holes in it,
 shatter the glass and leave my body exposed  it,
 lift the doors up and  all my demons out,
 and I  see my brother now cos thats what i been dreaming bout,
 i aint thinking bout  or pulling beemers out,
 im thinking bout my son  everytime they leave the house,
 i know how to make it out the hood i  the route,
 and heres the  me venus and serena out,
 
 [Chorus]
 
 im sitting on these stairs at  church,
 bout to start a 
 and somewhere in the world somebody about to start a 
 tell me who  it, who’s son is that,
 and how he get there,  tell me who gun is that,
  aint saying confess definietly aint saying snitch,
 but if you kiled the n-gga help his momma dig his 
 im from the hood where n-gga gotta keep  gun cocked,
 kids wear dre beats  stop the sound of gun shots,
 but at least they  the dre beats cos kids in africa aint even got shoes on they feet,
 and i seen  on my own eyes at the same time I picking flys off my own eyes,
 can you feel that, if  can hear them buzzing,
 you can feel the pain of Mike Tyson  his baby mother,
 they lost there baby daughter and  was only 3
 she never got a chance to blossom on the family 
 
 [Chorus]
 
 We got  new president and I love that he black,
  Imma ask him like bush, where the soldiers at?
 now move the camera to new orleans where the soldiers 
 the water dried up  n-gga do the Nolia clap
 we all juveniles we all been  some trials,
 and some tribulations,  in this booth pacing,
 what do I say next, should I  about some cars
 or the  chapter of my life and show you all my scars,
 or my  wounds and my stab wounds,
  show you I covered them up with tattoos,
 i can’t do nothing but spit the 
 on probation smoking drink patrone before I  the booth,
 you making songs for the clubs while n-ggas 
 i make em for the ride home when n-ggas 
 one minute you  next minute sh-t is tragic,
 and  a Jim Johnsin track now fill this stack
 
 [Chorus]