Luyện nghe bài hát 6 Summers

a minute!

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

Take chains off, rangs off
and things, big aches and pains
My jack rang off with
is too raw, it's a fish plate
Fay-Lay, the
A hunnid and 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 your tape, do or die, it was compo-
Trimmin' the bream with the blade and
Figure it out,
Bitch, spill my sake
You gon'make me you out this 'partment
You gon' have to kick it in the
Damn, but don't somebody stop me, I'm too

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

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

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

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

Word!

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

on
This shit gon' bang at least six
Pop the top, that hot than a motha
We need more and long gunners
Put down your and smoke marijuana
Pop the lock off muzzle
Niggas is dyin' like lost in the shuffle
We know you lyin', my nigga, naw, we trust you
We you buy to sell it back to the public
'Cause there's money to made in the killin'
That's why he tryna a war on the Twitter feed
Somebody this nigga's phone, is you kiddin' me?
Take them AKs up outta Inner City streets

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

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

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

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

shit gon' 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 gon' change for at three summers
They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth,
goes the shooter
Reform, reform shoulda came