Luyện nghe bài hát Dead President Heads

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

I went from women asking "what's the scent of your fragrance?" to center of
To dinners in Vegas, all the way to Japan racking up yen
Now I'm all the way
And I'm acting like Dennis in Vegas, stacking up
I'm a black boy, armed, dangerous
To those who want to come and try harm or him
While they're living in anguish, I'm living in real nigga harmony
Energy me blend together like falsettos, tenors, and bass
All is on God level
All memories formed in from the 70s
And all to all dinners and plates
And all to the cartels, and we out on a yacht
And you how we know that we are and you not?
y'all are looking at our sales
I'm a one-man army
I'm [?] than all, I put the our in our sales
Uh, I'm the one can't generalize
Every time I through straight, their wave minimize
Why? It's probably 'cause I gun through faith, enterprise
Niggas get crowned quick days
Street this, best this, king that, we seen that
All we see around your is squad cars
Niggas need to be crown vicked these
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 rocked with an entourage since '07
dissed Marshall after they copy his whole reference
Like we won't send an actual firing to their studio
That will their whole session
A lot of dope, but none concern me though
I got that Pac, Big L, Pun flow
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" 'til she having an
And all of her is haul-assing down the thighs
God dropped me off in the drop with the crossroads with crossed and dotted eyes
I'm not alive, I born, I got a ride
Uh, get popcorn, idolize 'cause I've arrived
is Cam Newton throwing bullets with the band shooting
This is beat submission Bas Rutten
This the [?] of [?]
Nigga, pay your dues, you're 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 last new year
Ha, boo-ya, over Baghdad
Compliments since 7 Mile, Fenkell Ave, and Poo Bear
With the just go blasting through there
I ain't stressing 'bout none of you poindexter
I ain't tongue wrestling with no artist unless it's
this, God, Gandhi, Kevlon labcoat
Mixed together leather bathrobes like Plies and Fonzi
science, I'm around lions and giants
You there, here
No one can hear you where I'm at, the highest tier
One diss track could tear your act up like the Flatbush Zombies
Whipping the Mac truck with Travis Scott, hitting your
I'm not a pioneer, I'm the of a dying prayer
in forever, ever, ever, ever, ever in laughter
And ever since heffer put me on MediaTakeOut
I ain't fucked a bitch since
I got sophisticated bitches coming to my asking "is it safe to sit?"
I said, "only if you have to a shit"
Country chick named Delores, I let her sit on Mason dick
blew up and get to shouting out designers
I like to thank my notebook, it got me out of the
Blacks had each other's backs
Rappers saying "All Matter"? Okay, now we're actually spineless
I'm psychology nowadays, she say she bad
I'll brainwash her like Hollywood to Stacey Dash
A lot of guys out slanging for a belt buckle like Tang
Wada-Tah!
5'9" the illest MC of all time now and all the time
Kneel right in front of me like sobriety, young'n, or fall in line
Uh, right now, I'm piranha dipping in waters of Flint the Slaughters and Em
Come on in, dummy, the water's
Sniff around, I smell just like money, I ain't hard to
I'm doing big
This bitch asked me do I got at least 50
Just the day
I said, "come here, let me kick
I got more than 50 shades and grey is the colorway"
I game my a pic of myself in a big frame
And a that said "bitch, I'm Rick James" for Mother's Day
Uh, I just the Lord and pray for more
I just lifted the of the devil
I don't really care how dressing
Nigga, I'm just out to take your drawers
the winner fall on the track
Let nature it's course
I'm a of the old Death Row camp
I a fan of his, he might want to be standin' clear
I with the cannon not the cameras
I ain't Shannon Briggs, but go champ
Let's dance
Kill you with the first and give you seven more,
Best flow yo petrol rants
You
This that new black Bent, Aston
that who dat against who askin ?
'99 the told me I wouldn't last
I'm too
But here I am, two boys two girls two in
And they over there on and heroin
Forks in they careers so that's embarrassin'
If I could just get you through my charities
I just let you breathe through me vicariously
But again, I might not cuz I don't write sparingly
I'm between get along, fight, and why can't we
Fuck the approach
If I to show up, I'm slashin' your throat
arms are too O.G. Maco to box with O.G. Wacko the G.O.A.T
I'm not a factor, I'm the problem
Down to for a fraction of folks
Your favorite artist a
I put leaves around the heads of non-believers drawings of Ceasar
Wake me when the sleepers are done ignoring me,
I'll be with a full tank of gas
On
If you the block, watch y'all sons
Watch y'all daughters, cuz I saw
Slaughter as much as I saw hot sauce and hot dog water
I came a way from wishin' under the stars
But I ain't come all of this way just to say I've this far
Coppin' paintbrushes with cards
There's no when it comes to this art
No need for followers
I prison
I'm the non-equivocal and at large
Listenin' to a Timbaland track in a in Calabasas
I'm that little Cringer and Battle Cat kid
Addict pen and pad scenematics spazzin'
Fuckin' wit' a bitch about as bad as my habits
I got askin' can I have it
All the valuables I have in world, I had to take it
Had to open King Tut's tomb up in my
Had to separate fear from then admiration
Get rid of fears
Time to remove and
Think about it, two sculptors named Gutzon and Lincoln
Who carved president heads
Who got paid president heads by the president
To move a
Contemprary art
We keep the rockin' like the dails of Art Basel
Stompin' through this hip-hop shit it's our step show
We
We should bar mitzvahs for these bars
We the
We should shoot bar missles with these
the odds, look at the car see the rides
Don't be surprised, realize
We ain't runnin' for
So, we worth shit
Unless we