Luyện nghe bài hát All I Do Is Win

(Young - Intro)
Cash
Squad!
We started this shit nigga!

(Chorus)
All I do is win, win, win, no what
Young niggas from the and we don't give a fuck
And every time we hop out wit' choppas
Everybody hands go up, and stay there
They better there, they better stay there
Lay down, lay down, lay
all I do is win, win, win
It started in the hood so where it begins
Let 'em there

(Young Cash)
I got so much swag, I stick out like a fin
You swimmin' in my water, I'm to let them sharks in
Real niggas in my circle, and I don't let no in
I to the streets, call me the young Al Sharpton
I know coke I need, hit the streets with my nig'
I rob ya for ya bricks, I don't a fuck like F.E.M.A.
Me and Hin off in the Beamer, 745
Brick right behind, they got seven .45's

(Yo Gotti)
All I do is win, I'm Gotti the G
I'm the M.V.P., I got championship
Triple double on these
Ten blocks and steals
Fifteen a six, me that I ain't real
Other that's ten birds, and I jack a nigga for twelve
Get bread wit' my homeboys I'm a team player
Like the A-Team, this the Yay Team, big work nigga
They wear it on my flat screen

(Gudda Gudda)
Okay, all I do is win, no need for another
Fly like the wind, nicknamed me helipcopter
I sip gin, my cup fulla that purple shit
All real niggas 'round me, no Urkel
I ain't talk, if it ain't money what's the purpose?
If it don't make dollars and cents, it ain't it bitch
Alotta clowns in this rap on that circus shit
While I to win and shake the game like (?)
Gudda

(Chorus)

(Bun B)
We up in Harlem on rock
Diddy in my Sean John
Tryna send these kings home like they Bron Bron
I rep this arm strong, cold, get your John
Whip proper, I got that off white (?)
Fourth quarter, down, four seconds on the clock
Mothafuck a huddle nigga, just me the fuckin' rock
up the middle, and I don't need a fuckin' block
Touchdown, the South win, bitch get off the jock

(Iceberg)
nigga!
And if you don't know me you can call me
That on them four Gaidos
And I don't got Asanti's spinnin'
I in packin' dro in grey clutches
And when it come to hoe niggas, I be thumpin'
And in County we flop niggas with dummy bricks
And quick to cop them real chickens that counterfeit
And if we don't ya we touch ya
If you we bustin'
Then throw it up in the for the fuck of it
'Berg

(Tity Boi)
Yeah, it's Boi, they call me 2 Chainz
If I die, bury me inside this flame
You know what it is, on my shoestrings
I make ya girl get loose for the loose
Chandelier on my neck, and white like a panda bear
This is not a 911, this a
Everybody starin', see what I'm wearin'
From the era, where M.O.B. mean only better

(Chorus)

(T-Pain)
Okay, Pizzle!

Ladies and gentleman, the South is in the spot
It ain't no on me dawg, I ain't a fuckin' cot
I'm rude to every bitch, hoe is you gon' or not?
white whores, yeah, gargle this fuckin' cock
They say, "Pain why you ain't on the "All I Do Is Win"?
And I say, "I am stupid, I'm just here to get again."
I and got the Field Mob niggas and made 'em friends
And I Fleetwood Mac and Chevy P you may

(Chevy P)
up dum-dum?
Ya run um
Comin' my hundred round drum for the trunk punk
runnin', go fast, like the runna done
Put through yo' Hilfiger, wit' my Tommy gun
So and be nimble, and jack and be quick
Or I'ma light yo' ass up like a candle
Like Erv Gotti, I'm ridin' on Asanti's, now I'm on
Chevy sit so high I can give E.T. a ride

(Chorus)