Luyện nghe bài hát Sam (Is Dead

(Domo Genesis)
This life is a game if you wanna
Counting on own mistakes
Livin' it no delays
so fast im gettin' growing
father didn't show me my instincts to the open lane
I go
all these problems coming with my age
haze
Tryna clear the that's sittin' on my brain
i complain
but the kid me feeling so restrained
stay golden
let desire rekindle the
for the fountain of youth while im freeing my brain
(Tyler the Creator) (Chorus 1)
(Bring in the horns!)
You here fucking brass (fucking brass nigga)
Thats a little boy nigger with the
Marching with the
looking for his , no sleeve but his hand carry muskets (Pow! (echo))
lurking in the meadows,
Mother Fuck (he's a leader)
not a
(Man)
Some profess this of your (clumsticks)
so think before blink
and eye eye (nigg-assumptions)
(Chorus 2)
Niggas! (Go left, Go left, Go left, right, left)
is coming! (Go left, Go left, (nigga) Go left , (nigga!) right, left)
Niggas! (Go left, Go left, Go left, right, left)
is coming! (Go left, (right!) Go left, (niggas) Go left, right, left)
(Tyler the Creator)
They want a a story
I write the shit that I very amusing
all of they fuckin' stories are boring
It's really awkward to know a bunch of kids do adore me
It's like I father fuckers so you won't find me on maury
I'm a kid in my heart
so I a problem maturing
but it will come from and shit I see touring
I'm a bird and i'm soaring
really and I'm
really horny from watching porn
Nope, but
(Chorus 1)
(Bring in the horns!)
You here that fucking brass (fucking nigga)
Thats a little boy nigger the trumpets
Marching with the
looking for his heart , no sleeve but his hand muskets (Pow! (echo))
lurking in the meadows,
Mother Gepetto (he's a leader)
not a
(Man)
Some profess none of your (clumsticks)
so think before your
and eye eye (nigg-assumptions)
(Chorus 2)
Niggas! (Go left, (wolf gang!) Go left, right, left)
Niggas is coming! (Go left, Go left, (nigga) Go , (nigga!) right, left)
Niggas! (Go left, Go left, Go left, right, left)
is coming! (Go left, (right!) Go left, (niggas) Go left, right, left)
(Tyler the Creator)




Now where's
Bottom of the
shit been the same since I found out
Beats ghostwrote for bow wow
now i'm the loud shot volume style foul mouth
that your teenage kid to bow down
around town in seattle
with the same shotgun Curt used to
Click-Clack-Boom-Pow!
suicidal but
some that i'm cool now
cause I got a award in my own room now,

but I can flip shit couch pillow, and
have my death sliding like a lose vow,
the bandwagon into caboose so, so
don't let that little nigger lose sound
(Just let him play)