Luyện nghe bài hát 6 Summers

a minute!

Trump's got a child and I hope that bitch is buckwild
I hope she sip Mescale-, I hope she senoritas and black gals
I hope her momma's El Salv, I her poppa stick around, yeah

chains off, take rangs off
Bracelets and things, big and pains
My jack off with clickbait
Truth is too raw, a fish plate
Fay-Lay, the
A and fifty of us on the big stage?
How it took a nigga just to get paid?
And now I think I'm 'bout to buy a Bentley,
I'm in LA with the and bongo
I heard tape, do or die, it was compo-
Trimmin' the bream with the blade and
Figure it out,
Bitch, don't my sake
You gon'make me kick you out this
You gon' to kick it in the lobby
Damn, but don't somebody me, I'm too sloppy

Trump's got a love child and I that bitch is buckwild
I hope she sip Mescale, I hope she kiss and black gals
I hope her momma's El Salv, I her poppa stick around, yes, Lord

The revolution will not be televised but it will be streamed live in 1080p on your peabrain in the face ass mobile device, alright!

This shit gon' bang at least six summers out that rock you been under
wrapped, duffel bag, gutter bunny
It's hard to cold murder
It's easier to get a nine
He was with a burner, they had to off 'em
Reform, reform shoulda came

a minute!
This gon' bang for at least six summers
(Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers)

Word!

This shit bang for at least six summers
But ain't gon' change for at least three summers
They kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop the shooter
Reform, reform shoulda came

on
This shit gon' bang at six summers
Pop the top, that bitch hot a motha
We need more and less gunners
Put down heat and smoke marijuana
Pop the lock off muzzle
is dyin' like lost files in the shuffle
We know you lyin', my nigga, naw, we don't you
We know you buy to sell it back to the
'Cause there's money to made in the spree
That's why he tryna a war on the Twitter feed
Somebody take nigga's phone, is you kiddin' me?
Take them AKs up outta Inner City streets

This shit gon' bang for at six summers
But ain't shit gon' change for at least three
They kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop goes the
Reform, shoulda came sooner

And so I smoke, drink, to cope with the pain
Get the Coltrane and the
And so I smoke, drink, just to cope the pain
Get the and the Cobain

Dear Mr. President, it's evident that you don't a damn
Ssh-Tell me somethin' that I know
All this fuckin' and if it ever make it to the stand, ssh-you know they gon' let 'em go, bro
You was stealin' niggas' land and oil
Billy copped the Eagle and it's legal to tote it
Lil' nigga bullied out his Pumas but why he have to the whole school up?

And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the
Get the and the Cobain
And so I smoke, drink, just to with the pain
Get the and the Cobain

This shit bang at least six summers
Word!
(Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers)
This shit bang for at least six summers
But ain't shit change for at least three summers
tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop goes the
Reform, reform shoulda came