Luyện nghe bài hát Ice Cream

Young Money, in the big shot
Time to do the thing, that's word to your watch
Shoot the Glock til it burn, til my lock
Rims hella big, skinny like Chris Rock
Hold the gun like O-Dog
Shoot a in his face, knock his nose off
Make the girls say my like roll call
killers got a nigga about to doze off
Big shit, nigga big shit, nigga
Big bread: bread like a nigga
Shake the whole game like the nigga
Money like germs: get sick nigga
Yea, and them other niggas
who want it? I deliver
Concrete shoes won't help in the
I don't care if you was Michael my nigga
I'm than the motherfucking Alps my nigga
I'm flyer than the motherfucking my nigga
Young shit, top-shelf my nigga
We the motherfuckers like my nigga
Ahem, like syringes
Yea I'm in my mode, got a like Da Vinci's
I was in the trenches, now I'm in the
And everybody watch back when you're in the front
You ain't never safe, playing with a gangsta
Bring it to his face and he ran like a
Bend the girl over, put her hands on her
I'm all over this ice cream beat sprinkles
"Why you", if you's a hater
I'm eating, you's a
Pistol on my hip: Raider
at your guala, zoom later
Young nigga, typhoon nigga
And if you you're sweet, buy a room nigga
Damu
I'm on my shit
She give me brain like she studied at Cambridge
Lighting up a motherfucking
fruity swag like a motherfucking runt
And I be with my dog a motherfucker hunting
Every day of the is the first of the month
Audemars with the diamonds in the face
Can't tell the time cause the in the face
We can get it popping a semi automatic
And if you got I put the biscuit on a patty
Rockstar tatted, big-money
Running this shit, now I'm feeling
I'm on a boat bitch, sea sick
Stop playing, I'm fresher then a stick
Street shit, well, of I smoke mad weed
I'm on my high-horse, don't shoot me down, I land feet flat
walk a million miles with New Orleans on my back
Ha, I need a
And when it comes to hoes, man, I got a
on the button, nigga just stuntin'
If you ain't the bank teller, don't tell me
Kush so you can smell me comin'
Bitch, I go hard the boy from "300"
You think you kick it, boy we puntin'
Young baby we the shit weak stomachs
No Ceilings