Luyện nghe bài hát AM // Radio

Nineteen, still gettin' out the crib
Ripped off my bib, spit out my food, and piss
burnin', I could smell the liquor in this
Cats always pick up the fist
this dude out
Rappers stoop just to get to crib
Now it's like who's face? who's warped? too
Distort thoughts, on my corpse on the
Back I'd slack more, rock my slacks or my ass
Everytime, I rap I
when I catch Cor', I always had sports
Dippin' on cops in my track
So tell my mom I ahad to it right
I lie every about the lime-light so I could lie at night
And tell my Pops' I gotta' take
Keep my head screwed on tight, abuse these
See me, I'm the contusion
A cat to smack a mic and catch my fuckin' hair when I'm height
Ratking, never hype, no
It's and I do it right
Ratking, yeah, I do it nice,

Bitch, I skated before I it
You'd take me before captain
Bet twenty hots on Daddy
To someone go Nolia them, probably cold and passive
Cause' Pops' was the one got to me
Feeling down like he passed it and when I'm cornered, it's
I was out the game, I'ma put the quarter right back in the slot
In 09', we the 7 to the Dussy 17 to the block
Bitch, if yo' nigga had Supreme, we was the reason he it
And nowadays, I'm on a lyrics to box with
And some pretty bitches that ain't trip if a hit and run
I got to go cause' I don't do the bro
She Mario, I'm keep the whining to a minimum
Piggies come, bet I'm splittin' quicker I finish rum
Find me some Indica, nuggets on my and my shirt like they was chicken crumbs
The room spinnin', finna' yak if I don't hit the
Got the chin wagon, chances of me getting up
After this, mind in the trash next to where my fuckin' passion
Doc's fanatics, half-a-Xanax I'm traveling six hours or more
out on the tour, got kicked out of the morgue
Spit cattle manure shit, shit, the Horsemen
the corpses