Luyện nghe bài hát Warm It Up

You, you
Warm it up, it up
Warm it up, it up, warm it up
Warm it up, it up
it up, warm it up, warm it up

This that Young Sinatra shit, yeah this Young Sinatra shit
Shut the up and listen whenever your Sinatra spit
Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra
Hey Bobby how can you She on a Young Sinatra dick
All these rappers wack as fuck, make the Sinatra sick
RattPack be the squad, that Young Sinatra clique
God damn, this the Young Sinatra clique, God
Listen, yeah, I'm visualizing the realism in my life and
Stuck to me yeah this shit is my galaxy
I am who the be
I'd rather be at
Killers be to be me
Magnify the shit bifocal
Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in person they vocal
Come to the hood and fuck you up if you prefer to be
I'm local, Noho, to Soho,
G's like I'm Frodo, you know ho I'm
Blessed Sunday, flyer than a runway
Little never second guess that he goin' make it one day
One wake, or another my brother word to your
should give me a badge cuz I'm always under-covers

God damn I'm a man
You I get, I get it, I get it, I get it
They turn out to spit it, it and rip it
I can murder your whole album with a 30 snippet
Pass the Mary Jane like I'm running a train with Parker
Until I have more sex in the than Jessica Parker
The deeper and I go it get darker
They say the want the old me, the want the Sinatra back
The one murder it, rip it up
Never gonna give it up around an
Yeah I'm all of that, fall back, like again
Basking these rappers so hard that they won't remember
it comes to Hip Hop, bitch I'm indigenous to this
This apparent, I'm down like a parent
When the beef is at steak, I'm
My god lyricism surpass flows
I'm much more than flows,
talk cash flows,
Great as the numbers at shows

Fuck that rap shit this that trap (Bobby)
This world is my (Bobby)
I was born and in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk shit get son (Bobby)
I really know why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got (ayy)
Couple sports yeah I bought some (ayy)
Thought you never flex Bobby get it (ayy)
Y'all don't know where I come from
that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know about me now
Everything I I get it somehow

Fuck trap shit this that rap shit
Give me the hand John the Baptist
to whip it I hoove in the catcher
Greatest like I'm Cassius
I put 'em all in caskets
can't see me get past this
I'm a bastard mastered the flow and none of y'all ready for this massacre though
Fuck Logic had absent though
Matter of fact it's not impossible but improbable like
the police isn't robbable
But I'm to walk up into a station in blue face
fuck the police!
Blue ain't a race
Fuck whoever said this rap shit was never a
This a marathon
Murder you and carry on
Claiming that you 'bout ya shit
You got Jim Carrey on, "Liar liar"
I might ya
one 'til I die
Will never
I am the
I am the God of shit
is how we do it
Yeah I this shit, yes I started this shit like

that rap shit this that trap shit (Bobby)
This is my contraption (Bobby)
I was born and raised in the son (Bobby)
shit get kidnapped son (Bobby)
I don't really why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got (ayy)
Couple sports cars yeah I some (ayy)
Thought you never flex Bobby get it (ayy)
Y'all don't really know I come from
that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know me right now
Everything I I get it somehow