Luyện nghe bài hát Coco Chanel

Whole lotta shit
Oh, uh, ugh, ayy yo
Ayy yo
We back on that Coco nigga number one, uh
lotta gang shit
Haha, bitch bloodclaat, you heard me
Oh, ayy yo, uh, Brooklyn!
Kick for my stomach, go!
Yo!

He got me like a coco, yeah uh la
Ellas coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don't fuck po-po
Numero uno, me Yoko
Pull up in them thing and them things fling
Niggas my name ring, and it go "ding-ding"
If I get an inkling, the thing'll
Ain't talkin' 'bout the singer, the sting-sting

Ayo if I'm in the Gurkha, then in the back of it
If I tell 'em eat food, then make a snack of it
If they take your cocaine then they a crack of it
If they grab your gold then they make a plaque of it
Know we never on it, run up with the MAC on it
Put a couple on it, they gon' put the whack on it

She got the bundles, worth a stack on it
That's to Brook' now, that's word to Bucktown
word to Harlem World, shout out to uptown
You know I shine on 'em, I spray on 'em
That's word to southside, Jamaica, on 'em
I'm mad on 'em, with mad schemes on 'em
I scale back, the triple beams on 'em
My ice gleams on 'em, creams on 'em
I pull up on the block bumpin' "Dreams" on 'em
A nigga on 'em, but ice freezed on 'em
I light breezed on 'em, I might on 'em
Might do it like it's Christmas and light on 'em
I see the bitin' my steez on 'em

He got me like a coco, uh la coco
Ellas quieren coco, y yo
Never a broke hoe, don't fuck with po-po
Numero uno, me Yoko
Pull up in them thing things and them fling
know my name ring, and it go "ding-ding"
If I get an inkling, the thing'll
Ain't talkin' 'bout the singer, the thing'll

Gimme bloodclaat gunshots
Brooklyn the fuck we at?
Flatbush,
That's my word to Big, murder them rasclats
All black Chloe straps, caliento skully to the
Fuck my ratchet at? Come make me that
spit on my chest, back I never left
Went down I come 'round, all y'all bitches bow down
King fox, Kong, back on my Trini, nigga
Valentino bling thong, all y'all bitches me, fuck
Nick, fuck it up, bad gyal a back it up
'pon my foot dem, C's pon my licka
Pretty red boots, see box but I never see them chop
say want try I-I-I-I

The this, them mowin' up my day
Them bitches in bum-ass Louis thigh highs
On my clip, chip get hooked in bright eyes
Gun slingers, let me see y'all gun
Y'all bitches riders
Nicki's, little Inga

He got me like a coco, yeah uh la
quieren coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don't fuck po-po
Numero uno, me llama
Pull up in them things and them things fling
know my name ring, and it go "ding-ding"
If I get an inkling, the sing-sing
Ain't talkin' 'bout the singer, the sting-sting

plus one is me, young Chun
And me, I can up the place, I'm done
So tell 'em run, come and bring a sum
Ayo Fox, they don't make us or us, word to young guns
Put your up
Unless ever do it, tell' em fi recognize
On a dem fi fi real vibes
They call me Ms. Bitch, but I miss, bitch
Got real shooters, D up, guys
Who me? I'm physically
Who she? It's we know she dyin'
Bitch see the board in 2017
Had to drop Queen on 'em a guillotine
All jealous bitches on the jelly team
it a hundred, that's a jelly bean
Uh, uh-uh,
Uh, uh-uh,