Luyện nghe bài hát Chevy Anthem

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

(Intro)

Remix! (Rick Ross)
Remix! (Rick Ross)
Remix! (Rick Ross)
Chevy Ridin Boy (Yo Gotti)
Its Ross (Rick Ross)
Mon E. G. (Mon E. G.)
Its Mon E. G. (Rick Ross)
Rickey (Mon E. G.)
Its Ross (Rick Ross)
Mon E. G. (Mon E. G.)
And Mon E. G. (Rick Ross)
Yo Gotti! (Yo Gotti)

(Yo Gotti)
I my first Chevy 73'
I was 17 ridin wit a B
It was green, fat boy triple gold
Tha era, right when we stop ridin fo's
Lamb'd up ride, 30 rims glide
6 off tha ground make it hard fa you ta see inside
Surround sound a motion picture
rims got my ocean spinnas
Hit a button, car up
button, do' lift up
People lookin, what tha
What is that, a car or
Hit tha lot, tha top
Bitch in, late ta block
VIP done tha club, headed ta my otha spot
Mashin off 454, look like Im off
Rubba burnin, yawl
damn near fallin off
Yo Gotti, hell naw I petty
So I wanna welcome my haters ta my 100 Chevy

(Chorus 2x)
Chevy high boy (Mon E. G.)
My Chevy fly (Yo Gotti)
Got me and yo baby (Mon E. G.)
off in tha sky (Yo Gotti)
Mon E. G. (Mon E. G.)
Yo (Yo Gotti)
Its Ross (Rick Ross)
No lie (Mon E. G.)
Its tha (Mon E. G.)
Chevy Anthem Remix, my Chevy Ridin (Yo Gotti)
Yes Sir! (Mon E. G.)

(Mon E. G.)
Chevy ridin high, blue candy paint make my hurt
30's on them low pros, gas brake skurt
Suicide doors wit tha in tha floor
My whole arm stay icy, my dick in ya whore
You dont really wanna race me at tha light, red green flight
Glass packs loud pipes, tv's are too
Outta spite, Ima turn up tha sound ta ya music
Cocaine white charger, reminiscin tha Cool
2 seconds done dipped, smashed out in tha house
West Coast mentallity, here ta drop tha ass out
Im out on errthang, underdog, deadly game, big super fast, put that on errthang
You can me Diddy like Sean, hit the bar team winnin
Feelin like we winnin tha World Series in tha 9th innin
Free ya mind like Lennon, interior blue lemon
Cuz Im to every sentence ball out like tha Pistons

(Chorus 2x)

(Rick Ross)
I sellin weed dreamin of a 7-3
Dat didnt cut it so fuck it we out sellin keys
Now my roof suede, and my seats
I aint tints, I like to see haters
We rollin back to back, and we slow
Whitney Houston wit me, nigga Im talkin
You suckas talkin slow, im to who coppin mo
They talkin sideways, thats tha choppas fo
Sittin on silver datins, bumpin that bigga rankin
I blew out tha brains, fuck what them thinkin
Multi-millionaire, started wit crumbs
So when you hear them glass packs, its to act up