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 momma's El Salv, I hope her poppa stick around,

chains off, take rangs off
Bracelets and things, big aches and
My rang 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 took a nigga just to get
And now I think I'm to buy a Bentley, pronto
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 spill my
You me kick you out this 'partment
You gon' have to kick it in the
Damn, but don't somebody me, I'm too sloppy

Trump's got a love child and I hope 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 stick around, yes,

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

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

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

Word!

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

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

This shit gon' bang for at 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

And so I smoke, drink, to cope with the pain
Get the and the Cobain
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 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
copped the Desert Eagle and it's legal to tote it
Lil' nigga bullied out his Pumas but why he have to shoot the school up?

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

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