Luyện nghe bài hát Brossface Brippler

[Intro: ? & Westside
It stop for him
on
Grr, ayo
'Cause he don't want you to know you can walk on the water
Well, I'ma you right now
Grr

[Verse 1: Gunn]
Ayo, rocking Calabasas out in
Tuck the MAC in, Off-White with the army patches
Allah save 'em, sweatsuit, Palm Angels
Star spangled, Draco his head off from all angles
Alchemist cool, bool, sipping Veuvo
My lil nigga dropped out the first day of
Dropped tears when I wrote my celly, Louis
Doctor Romanelli the Desi, switch the bust to the gold Presi
Who that nigga usually shoulder on?
Ten thousand dollar sofas, plug loafers from cobra
Handle rock like Villanova, gave him cold
But the colder for them TEC toter
Get the Lex chauffeur, yo (skr)
I dare one of y'all to step on the
Plain summer, hit the coast, his brains in the luggage
you suffer, but you love it (ah)
Make you suffer, but you it (boom boom boom boom boom boom boom)
Wayne bucking, chain tucking it's took
You want a yard but you
My nigga went to and got cooked
He should've both ways
I got rich off of
Yours came back, what a shame

2: Benny]
Yo, ay, look, my dog'll slit your throat for a of coke
He walked in the union, then he slipped a note
A new Ferrari, ticket price, that's what my kitchen
business, my scale off balance, and my blender broke
Griselda on another run, and major facts
And y'all put in hands of niggas you know ain't gon' clap
I got the .38 on strap Raiders black
We switch pistols, did missions, then traded
Born in the era, in the with the smokers
Hit the corner and cop with a baby in the stroller
Saw my family on drugs, that's what me whip the soda
If I don't answer for the plug, gon' make him miss his quota
Uh huh, it's crazy, we came up from doing all this
dope with so much cut that it clogged they needles
And real, for this long, gon' be hard to equal
This for the hustlers who got on and fed all people
My stand up, my Glock shoot straight
Crime do pay, these Nike boxes not for shoe
Y'all got due dates, for one charge, did in two states
I put pictures of my kids up, toothpaste, uh
This gon' be a real heartbreaker, and I by it
Can flying, blowing at your head like a hair
East side nigga, my whole hood full of
Guns in guitar cases, blood on a apron

[Verse 3: Rhymes]
I cut coke I'm chopping beats, they call me Mr. Walt, bae
Master, the chef, I'm cooking coke, they me Salt Bae
Bitches'll bag my crack while I fuck 'em in a short
Niggas'll brag 'bout coke while I somersault the yay
coke good, but you a worker is what you're supposed to say
At a hookah lounge a waitress serving coke, now sniff it off the tray
While I celebrate a this evening, pop the bottle cork and spray
Pipe your bitch she sleeping, show my bread, you'll be forced to pay
Cocked, now I'm letting off the K,
Molding and the predator
off the prey despite how kneeling they often pray
It's like I'm still bagging with Fredrico
accidentally split your finger
Blood mixed up all in the perico,
Sorry for all of you niggas that became victims while we count your over mojitos
Fabulous imported fabrics even when I'm in my clothes
This motherfucker distribute
Like I'm it on wheat toast
So much bread the bag swell up, we getting it in each loaf

Because he don't want you to know that you can on the water
Well, I'ma you right now