Luyện nghe bài hát Next Up

Gawddayum, I don't know y'all been thinkin' 'bout
But I think this here is about to shut dem damn haters down

I'm from the streets that make niggaz walk slow, low
With white chalk-o, mi casa be siete uno
Brooklyn motherfucker, this
Pardon my and French

Okay, I stay clever like with lay leather
Till your sever, one of the greatest ever
Beyond bells, my name's so demandin'
Shit, I got the swagger that'll leave Fanning

I hope you niggaz over standin', I stay
The next king of in the game, you ain't got to be
Your career last a week, that'll be
with me, the rap game'll need protective custody

I'm the same thug be surrounded with women
the game true religion before you found it in denim
Feel the Wrath of and you could not escape
The hip hop version of The and you just watched the tape

And keep eyes on the niggas in Ward
Triple black in the candy car is the color of board
Me or my brother on pall with nigga
We trill, workin' the wheel, understand

I and split a bitch down to the tendon
High pressure, if you don't break your ass
I'm way past in my series of warnin'
You flex with me tonight, playa, you dead by the

Bun Beater, the best ever or deceased
From the South to Midwest, to the East
Go to any city nigga and bring my up
I bet I eat the best rapper they got in the up

Call a nigga up, him or chirp him
Make a meal out his motherfuckin' ass and burp him
Don't fuck around, I'm not lil' homey
I'm the King of the Underground, so act like you me

Homie, we big steppin', big
We givin' kids Smith & Wesson's lessons, you get left with a
Left with the Midwest, clique
G. and Kane, the click Texas, pop you to death

I put planes on swift Jetsons, niggaz know what it is
When you see the ball cap and a slick
Till you vexin to a movie clip from the Westerns
Shit from the Uzi clip lift up your

He will introduce you to the nose on the fam
Give you metal like clothes from a rock band
Multiple holes, you get on your top, man
High roller dose some hoes on the plan

Froze but never coldly rolls a hot hand
We stackin' cheese till the rubber bands pop
And I ain't breakdancin' when I'm in the pop
Bank pounds James Brown give 'em Hot Pants

I make your girl get and open it up
Put my up in they jaws and go in they butt
I'm a hot street flame, they call me Sweet James
Or me Sir Jones, two hundred dollar cologne

Board Nine or Miyaki
I got girl mine, meat strong like saki
I ain't but I keep her rockin'
around, I'll knock your tuna fish out of socket

Your bitch out of pocket, she under
She eyeballin' watchin' my top fall in
On my with the quick scream
Fettucini, linguine, shrimp and a bowl of

What you know about cross country?
Nigga, your piece big but your diamond look
You need to take that shit
That ain't no Emmy diamonds the fuck you done to that

Bitch, what the fuck you done to
Now, damn, somebody need to Jacob ass over that