Luyện nghe bài hát Ballin' On A Budget

I'm just a big bang baller on a
Dank weed, smokin' 'fuck it'
City slicker, nigga, reppin' straight from Kentucky
Horseshoes and rabbit paws flossin', closs for the lucky
40 flowers, Range Rovers, so they know the rusted

cookin', dog fightin', big body ridin'
Chillin' like a mug in Western Kentuck', showin'
a funner time, smoke and gunner time
Sippin' Sprite and somethin' dark every fuckin'

Uhh, okay watch how the po' ball
Stomp through to mall in my overalls, the black
No pager, no cellphone, no at all
Just a of Dutch Masters and a pint of alcohol

My hooptie, with a down like Boots said
"You perm, fuck a fade
Let my hair back and forth like a germ
I'll nigga with sick shit, pull out and stick it in this thick chick
Mama drama, child support court and ain't worth the biscuit"

What'cha know about them backwood country
What'cha know about the bone hundred spoke?
Jimmy Crack Corn, no fade, no
What'cha know ballin' on a budget bro?
I'm just ballin' on a budget,
I'm just on a budget, yeaga
I'm just ballin' on a budget,
the N the A the P P Y

Pull up, dead on the hood of my truck
Kentucky Mud on my and my socks
Hungry Jack, prefer to stuff some food in my gut
Country cat in the hat
I'm front to put the house on that

yams, chitlins, greens, and smoked country ham
Chicken wings, cornbread, in the kitchen throwin' down
Eat good, tryin' a somethin', run up on a pound
Roll somethin', gut a Vega a stuff it with a ounce

Hummin', Mama cookin' that mean it's Sunday
a pint of bootleg gin, it keep my goin'
Fat knot, [Incomprehensible], bad
Cigars and bags, man we stay right

Aww man, we go back, like sweet pickle book
that was good love, summertime bathin' in a foot tub
Damn that shit hurt and my jams in that
26, one stick never worked

What'cha about them backwood country folk?
What'cha know about the 'Lac bone hundred
Jimmy Corn, no fade, no comb
know about ballin' on a budget bro?
I'm just ballin' on a budget,
I'm just on a budget, yeaga
I'm just ballin' on a budget,
the N the A the P P Y

Comin' up in the all I did was run barefoot
Ne'er could my hair good
My hairline grew like ten pound
'Tween my rib and my
It's a thin brown line, shit

did and Ma work out on the clothin' line
Cool as shit, country out on the grind
River views, picnic, big ticks covered the
Folks visit and it apparent to come back again

Look here, see I smoke a fire and I drink like a fish
That's it, Ecstasy just ain't on my
No comb, no brush, no fade, no
No shit, no hair and you get no

Now we love them gals that love themselves, them southern
Them Kentucky gals with muddy tails
We cut them gals, no veils, no bells
Trick on cheap hotels, KY and nothin' else

What'cha know about them backwood folk?
What'cha know about the 'Lac hundred spoke?
Jimmy Corn, no fade, no comb
What'cha know ballin' on a budget bro?
I'm just ballin' on a budget,
I'm ballin' on a budget, yeaga
I'm just on a budget, yeaga
the N the A the P P Y