Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

Yeah, Ok Im to the left, fla-flag in my right pocket
Star Treck fly, unidentified objects
Extraterrestrial Im all my decimals
Retarded in the booth, they say I got a special
Sicker than your average, you rappers is ass
Gudda crack, and you niggas is crack addicts
The simple
You cut the check and I rake in the green, like Im rakin the in
Pretty bitches damn near when they passin
my whip Martin but the first name Aston
Potato head niggas get mashed when Im
Think you fucking with me put your in
Nah I it
I was young and reckless Pete say he was about it
You niggas is Ducks, Howards,
Kill the competition and shower niggas flowers
rap shit is ours
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back in it
Black menace
Black clothes, Black
semi,
Ive never sat in
That would me
Try or Maybach
I got stacks, yeah
Paychecks on
And I want payback
And I dont play that
I on ASAP
And you dont do but get money all day
Put some on my bullets now they runnin your way
YM Mula, Young Money all day
the drugs so sweet, like honey on yay
Which one of yall say, you want drama Im
I blitz your ass, a muthaficking lineman
Stack of paychecks, a whole bunch of commas
wear red, like a old 49er
Fuck shittin on ya, dump the whole on ya
Wee-Weezy F Baby bitch, I'm than Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama aint make me to homies
She me to make history
So doing thats my activity
boy, and the Target is the Industry
Two I Love in the World, Good Head and Victory
You aint it big and broke stop kidding me
Your whip aint up to date, and your hoes like Mr. T
This is Misery, no Cathy
at me sideways, my money'll slap ya straight
Yeah, Im a Big so you know I smash your ace
Leave the club with ya girl, her home with an ashy face
Love is a gamble, but its my
that your the loser, I hope that she got aveno
I hope the game got life insurance cause Ima it
And all you wack ass rap niggas dying it
Im so harlem, eating but starving
Pockets fat as fuck, like all they do is eat
Millz!

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
up the notch
Burn the song a Stove-Top
Its licking hot
His pitch flip the nigga flop
My shit hit, the pitch was soft
Niggas balled
She drawers cause she poppin off
Her cross guard, but, I dont stop at all
I smash in the car, like the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who wanna it done
The shit that we up on
Shittin on em hay in the barn
Hey they say money talks
And, man you speak at all
You at mini-malls
My style two up, like using analogues
I shit, for the recognition bitch
as my witness, say envision
I bore you niggas flame
I melt
Tyga skin aint