Luyện nghe bài hát AM // Radio

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

Bitch, I before I rapped it
take me before your captain
Bet twenty on your Daddy
To someone go Nolia Clap them, probably cold and
Pops' was the one that got to me
Feeling down like he passed it and when I'm cornered, it's
I was kinda' out the game, put the quarter right back in the slot
In 09', we took the 7 to the 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 trip if it's a hit and run
I got to go cause' I do the crying bro
She Mario, I'm keep the whining to a minimum
come, bet I'm splittin' quicker than I finish rum
Find me some Indica, nuggets on my fingers and my shirt they was chicken crumbs
The room spinnin', finna' yak if I don't hit the
Got the chin wagon, slim of me getting up
After this, mind in the trash next to where my fuckin' passion
Doc's fanatics, half-a-Xanax when I'm traveling six hours or
out on the tour, got kicked out of the morgue
Spit cattle shit, shit, rally the Horsemen
Tally the