Luyện nghe bài hát Dead President Heads

Uh
We in here counting president heads
Up in the years, it's up in the mills of dead president heads and counting
They put pictures of dead president on green, long papers
Then went and put dead president on mountains
How we gon' make it?
You know

I went from asking "what's the scent of your fragrance?" to center of attention
To dinners in Vegas, then all the way to Japan up yen
Now I'm all the way
And I'm like Dennis in Vegas, stacking up wins
I'm a young black boy, armed,
To those who want to and try harm or change him
While they're living in anguish, while I'm living in nigga harmony
around me blend together like falsettos, tenors, and bass
All is on God level
All formed in melodies from the 70s
And all to all dinners and plates
And all to the cartels, and we out on a yacht
And you know how we that we are and you not?
Because y'all are at our sales
I'm a motherfucking one-man
I'm [?] than all, I put the our in our sales
Uh, I'm the one they can't
Every time I come through straight, their minimize
Why? It's probably I gun through faith, gave enterprise
Niggas get crowned these days
Street this, best this, that, we ain't seen that
All we see around your clique is cars
Niggas need to be crown these days
Stop it, you couldn't fit in my old socks
Let my shoes
I'm not a street nigga, I'm just a chip off the old
I ain't rocked with an since '07
Niggas dissed Marshall after they copy his whole
Like we send an actual firing squad to their studio
will Basquiat their whole session
A lot of niggas dope, but none concern me
I got that Pac, Big L, Pun eternity
I got that that weed, taking that last drag in
And in the infirmary glow
I'll hit your broad in the gall bladder with ball dagger
Have her hollering "not the knife" she having an orgasm
And all of her is haul-assing down the thighs
God me off in the drop with the crossroads with crossed toes and dotted eyes
I'm not alive, I wasn't born, I got a
Uh, get your popcorn, idolize 'cause arrived
This is Cam throwing bullets with the band shooting
is beat submission from Bas Rutten
This the [?] of [?]
Nigga, pay dues, you're past due here
This cash rules, you're looking at the wrong paper, bad news
Relax junior, you still think you're in school
But you're not, but you will be looking at your last new
Ha, boo-ya, bombs Baghdad
Compliments since 7 Mile, Fenkell Ave, Cash and Poo
With the just go blasting through there
I ain't stressing none of you poindexter responses
I ain't tongue wrestling no artist unless it's Ashanti
this, God, Gandhi, Kevlon labcoat
Mixed with leather bathrobes like Plies and Fonzi
science, I'm around lions and giants
You there, here
No one can hear you crying where I'm at, the tier
One diss track could tear your whole act up the Flatbush Zombies
Whipping the Mac truck Travis Scott, hitting your Macbook
I'm not a pioneer, I'm the last of a prayer
Living in forever, ever, ever, ever, in laughter
And ever since that put me on MediaTakeOut
I ain't fucked a bitch since
I got bitches coming to my place asking "is it safe to sit?"
I said, "only if you have to a shit"
Country chick named Delores, I let her sit on this Mason
blew up and get to shouting out designers
I like to thank my notebook, it got me out of the
Blacks never had other's backs
Rappers saying "All Matter"? Okay, now we're actually spineless
I'm psychology nowadays, she say she bad
I'll probably brainwash her Hollywood to Stacey Dash
A lot of guys out slanging for a belt buckle like Pootie
Wada-Tah!
5'9" the MC of all time right now and all the time
Kneel right in of me like feel sobriety, young'n, or fall in line
Uh, right now, I'm piranha dipping in waters of Flint with the and Em
Come on in, dummy, the water's
Sniff around, I smell just like money, I ain't to find
I'm doing big
This bitch me do I got at least 50 shades
Just the day
I said, "come here, let me game
I got than 50 shades and just grey is the colorway"
I game my a pic of myself in a big frame
And a card that said "bitch, I'm James" for Mother's Day
Uh, I just thank the and pray for more
I just lifted the of the devil
I don't care how you're dressing
Nigga, I'm just out here to take drawers
Make the winner fall on the
Let nature take course
I'm a of the old Death Row camp
I ain't a fan of his, he might to be standin' clear
I with the cannon not the cameras
I Shannon Briggs, but let's go champ
Let's slow
Kill you with the first and give you seven more,
flow versus yo petrol rants
You
This that new Bent, blue Aston
This that who dat who askin ?
'99 the told me I wouldn't last
I'm too
But I am, two boys two girls two errors in
And they over on pills and heroin
Forks in they careers so that's embarrassin'
If I could get you clean through my charities
I might just let you through me vicariously
But then again, I not cuz I don't write sparingly
I'm torn get along, fight, and why can't we
the Stitches approach
If I have to show up, I'm your throat
Your arms are too O.G. Maco to box with O.G. the G.O.A.T
I'm not a factor, I'm the whole
Down to subtract for a fraction of
Your artist a diva
I put leaves around the heads of non-believers drawings of Ceasar
Wake me when the sleepers are done ignoring me,
I'll be flying with a tank of gas
On
If you from the block, y'all sons
Watch y'all daughters, cuz I saw
Slaughter much as as I saw hot sauce and hot dog water
I came a long way from wishin' under the
But I ain't come all of this way just to say I've this far
Coppin' paintbrushes with cards
There's no limit it comes to this art
No for twitter followers
I prison
I'm the non-equivocal and at large
Listenin' to a Timbaland track in a villa in
I'm that little Cringer and Battle Cat kid
Addict specialty pen and pad spazzin'
Fuckin' a bitch about as bad as my spendin' habits
I got nowhere can I have it
All the valuables I in this world, I had to take it
Had to open King tomb up in my imagination
Had to separate fear respect then admiration
Get rid of your
Time to doubts and
Think about it, there's two sculptors named Gutzon and
Who carved dead president
Who got paid president heads by the president
To move a
Contemprary art
We keep the shit rockin' the dails of Art Basel
Stompin' through this hip-hop shit it's our step show
We
We should have bar mitzvahs for bars
We the
We should bar missles with these bars
Beat the odds, look at the car see the
be surprised, just realize
We runnin' for president
So, we ain't worth
we alive