Luyện nghe bài hát Ballin' On A Budget

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

Country cookin', dog fightin', big body
Chillin' like a mug in Kentuck', showin' love
Summertime a funner time, smoke and time
Sippin' Sprite and somethin' dark every time

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

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

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 ballin' on a budget,
I'm just on a budget, yeaga
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 tryin' to stuff food in my gut
Country cat in the hat
I'm front to back put the on that

yams, chitlins, greens, and smoked country ham
Chicken wings, cornbread, gran in the throwin' down
Eat good, a smoke 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
Half a of bootleg gin, it keep my goin'
Fat knot, [Incomprehensible], bad
and happy bags, man we stay right

Aww man, we go back, like pickle book clubs
Nigga that was good love, summertime bathin' in a tub
Damn that hurt and my jams in that shirt
Atari 26, one never worked

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

Comin' up in the woods all I did was run
Ne'er could comb my good
My hairline grew ten pound vines
'Tween my rib and my
It's still a brown line, shit

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

Look here, see I like a fire and I drink like a fish
That's it, Ecstasy just on my list
No comb, no brush, no fade, no
No shit, no and you get no dick

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

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