Luyện nghe bài hát 6 Summers

a minute!

Trump's got a love child and I 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,

Take chains off, rangs off
Bracelets and things, big and pains
My jack rang off with
Truth is too raw, it's a fish
Fay-Lay, the
A and fifty of us on the big stage?
How long it took a 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 and lawnmow'
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 love child and I hope that is buckwild
I hope she sip Mescale, I she kiss senoritas and black gals
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 in the face ass mobile device, alright!

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

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

Word!

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

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

This shit gon' bang for at six summers
But ain't shit gon' for at least three summers
They tryna a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop goes the
Reform, reform shoulda 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 and the Cobain

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

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