Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to everybody that worked on the
You feel me, Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie
out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk
[Verse 1: Tyler the
Big eared bandit is tossin' all his
In a bag and them in seran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em in baskets the rest of those sandwiches
So when he "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an accident
Um, flowin' like my pad is the
My bitch white and black like been mimickin' a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in
Then kicking all out Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the all against her Wilt Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' contradictin' dick head
Flyer an ostrich moshin' in a tar pit
Semen scented printed tee
In 'Preme five panel, I'll repeat it for the season
Previous in the present
the normal ass past like I cheated on my team
It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To have some type of knowledge that is one
But knowin' you own your is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage is boneless
Smiles of cowards in lead showers, dead in red blouses
Children who fled on Mustang horses and went joustin'
I'm on my Robin Hood shit, in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm your rings
Coke and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot
And salute like the troop you shoot you gon' poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, the fuck off my stoop
And out my aid, Juice
[Verse 3: Brain]
got the juice, I got the gin
Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in
Wolf Gang party at the
I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the tell
You know Left need a freak
I need a bitch to go down a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be if I ask where the hash at
I'm tryna smoke, bitch get higher
Domo where that Flocka Flame? 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or shoot me
Cause if you don't salute me my team will do the shooting
my nigga Ace will pull the black jack
The king Mike G is in the cut with the mac
Living the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up
And if these haters up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
Free my nigga Earl, yo, I really ask for much
But two bad bitches in front of me
4: Mike G]
What the is caution?
Often I you flossing and cause exes next to coffins
Lost in translation, the dreams you
Got you diving for the like you stealing home base
great, I'm home alone dreaming of two on ones
With Rihanna and Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the closet organizing and the tramp
Three lettermans that Ace has making him
No strays we catching matinees, huh?
I'm getting blazed thinking those days
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, fair when crime pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
To the game like bitches to wedding rings
And you even need to look cause we gleam obscene
In the light, ride slow to my diamond shining
Like the Batman logo Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em Mike G" I got 'em
One man squadron, I'm a problem
From Briggs I got bars and to
Pimp these Polish into pop stars
Humanity kills, we all suffer from insanity
And if I said it then it is or gonna be real
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
5: Domo Genesis]
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get baby mommy popped
With my other snobby bop, do I love prolly not
Know your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin'
Bitch I'm in the zone, alone, like Macaulay Cock
I've been runnin' blocks a snotty tot
Big was a big deal with the water Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing songs to give 'em watts
Fire what I talk, but cooler than an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck in your wish list
Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches
On some slick shit, your mistress on my hit
And I'm lifted I'm stiff out of this bitch
Odd in your area
Blood clots give me five feet 'fore I ya
flow, let the big wave carry ya
Tyler got the mask like he Jim Carrey up
And fuck team, ho nigga wassup
Wolf so you know we not giving no fucks
You me dog, I'm a chill in the cut so I can
Cut it short, break it down, pounds, roll it up

Get me a Persian rug the center looks like Galaga
[Verse 6: Ocean]
a super car for a day
Drive around with your friends, smoke a gram of that
Bro, easy on the ounce, a lot for a day
But just for a week, my nigga what can I say
I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I I'm straight
give you this wine, the runner just brought the grapes
My give it some time, Morris, and Day
Course you know the as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you sample the feel
Headphone bleed, make this shit sound
Used to the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and them psychics was
Now, how many fucking balls can I buy and own
old me had to flex for the fogs
Down in Muscle Beach pumping iron and
Bumping off my cellular phone
Yeah, bumping oldies off my phone

Goddammit, this rapping is and it's hard
do it over and over and over again but here I go
[Verse 7: Dolphin]
Hey it's Jasper, not even a
Only on beat to make my racks grow faster
Got a TV show, so I guess I'm an
Pot head, half baked, like Chappelle
Rollin' up a blunt with fire from hell
Still ignorant, hit a bitch
Wolf Gang, nigga, so I still don't give a
me in the back with Miley on my lap
Bong rips as I feel on that bitch cat

Hah, came through with a 9 bar real quick
Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my
Fuck it, Wolf
8: Earl Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for is a pair of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' fires to whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) All-American terrorist
rapper larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I just spent a Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to show you hysterics is
Spit to the meet the bottom of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow remind these niggas embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might him since
I it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, wearin' pack of
Threw his own off the roof after paradise
La di da di, back in to fuck the party up
fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it rain pucks
And 60 day chips fuckin' awesome anonymous
Call him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow
Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra
Vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to as drum
And let me hit and beat it a stick until the hole was numb
The culprit of the potent
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' inside a stolen truck
Shittin' like his colon
full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm over the novices
I'm roamin' the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is
gold 'til the case closed and the story end
Post mortem porkin' this rap shit and it
To escort it to the again, lord of lips
Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, under 40 list
the gate, ensurin' the bass
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker in torso and face
Get at me with savages, have a of Apache
Indian pack of niggas who give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, your is tacky
So see me you can't Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi
like lateral passin'
With mothafuckin' gladiator manner of rappin'
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
Fall back if your paddies is Maxi,
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, that's all I got
From my bigger brother Frankie to my little Tac
From that father figure Clancy to that skatey Naks
down 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the lettering on lettermans and cotton socks
And tape...and my shoes
Um, I was 15 I first drew that donut
5 later, for our label yea we own it
I an empire, I ain't even old enough
To drink a beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
is for the niggers in the suburbs
And the white with nigger friends who say the n-word
And the ones that got weird, fag, bitch, nerd
you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't right
Always try to turn our color into black and white
But they'll change 'em, never understand 'em
my anthem, turn my fucking amps up
So of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck
Just admit, not are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

OFM, banging on FM
Gnaw, 2011, yeah, Golf