Luyện nghe bài hát 6 Summers

a minute!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Word!

This shit gon' bang for at least six
But shit gon' change for at least three summers
They tryna kill a faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop the shooter
Reform, reform came sooner

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

This shit bang for at least six summers
But shit gon' change for at least three summers
They tryna kill a faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop goes the
Reform, reform shoulda came

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 Coltrane and the

Dear Mr. President, it's evident that you don't give a
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 overseas stealin' niggas' and oil
Billy copped the Desert 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 with the pain
Get the and the Cobain
And so I smoke, drink, just to cope the pain
Get the Coltrane and the

This shit gon' bang at six summers
Word!
(Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers)
shit gon' bang for at least six summers
But ain't shit gon' change for at least summers
They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth,
goes the shooter
Reform, shoulda came sooner