Luyện nghe bài hát Dead President Heads

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

I went from women asking "what's the scent of your fragrance?" to of attention
To dinners in Vegas, then all the way to racking up yen
Now I'm all the way
And I'm acting like Dennis in Vegas, up wins
I'm a young boy, armed, dangerous
To who want to come and try harm or change him
While living in anguish, while I'm living in real nigga harmony
Energy me blend together like falsettos, tenors, and bass
All intelligence is on God
All memories formed in from the 70s
And all hail to all dinners and
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 more [?] than all, I put the our in our
Uh, I'm the one they can't
Every I come through straight, their wave minimize
Why? It's probably 'cause I gun faith, gave enterprise
Niggas get quick these days
Street this, best this, king that, we ain't seen
All we see around clique is squad cars
need to be crown vicked these days
Stop kicking it, you fit in my old socks
Let my shoes
I'm not a street nigga, I'm just a off the old block
I ain't rocked an entourage since '07
dissed Marshall after they copy his whole reference
Like we won't send an actual firing squad to studio
will Basquiat their whole session
A lot of niggas dope, but none me though
I got that Pac, Big L, Pun eternity
I got that that weed, taking that last drag in
And tossed in the glow
I'll hit broad in the gall bladder with this ball dagger
Have her "not the knife" 'til she having an orgasm
And all of her is haul-assing down the thighs
God dropped me off in the drop with the crossroads crossed toes and dotted eyes
I'm not alive, I born, I got a ride
Uh, get popcorn, idolize 'cause I've arrived
This is Cam Newton throwing bullets with the shooting
This is beat submission Bas Rutten
This the [?] of [?]
Nigga, pay your dues, you're past due
This cash rules, looking at the wrong paper, this bad news
Relax junior, you still think you're in high
But you're not, but you will be looking at your last new
Ha, boo-ya, over Baghdad
since 7 Mile, Fenkell Ave, Cash and Poo Bear
With the residents just go through there
I stressing 'bout none of you poindexter responses
I ain't tongue with no artist unless it's Ashanti
Nigga this, God, Gandhi, labcoat
Mixed together with leather like Plies and Fonzi
Cool science, I'm around lions and
You there, here
No one can hear you where I'm at, the highest tier
One diss track could your whole act up like the Flatbush Zombies
the Mac truck with Travis Scott, hitting your Macbook
I'm not a pioneer, I'm the of a dying prayer
Living in forever, ever, ever, ever, in laughter
And since that heffer put me on MediaTakeOut
I fucked a basic 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 dick
blew up and get to shouting out designers
I to thank my notebook, it got me out of the binders
Blacks had each other's backs
saying "All Lives 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 buckle like Pootie Tang
Wada-Tah!
5'9" the illest MC of all 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 money, I ain't hard to find
I'm big things
This asked me do I got at least 50 shades
the other day
I said, "come here, let me game
I got more than 50 and just 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 thank the Lord and pray for more
I lifted the skirt of the devil
I don't really how you're dressing
Nigga, I'm just out to take your drawers
Make the winner on the track
Let nature it's course
I'm a product of the old Death Row
I ain't a fan of his, he might want to be standin'
I with the cannon not the cameras
I ain't Shannon Briggs, but let's go
Let's dance
Kill you the first and give you seven more, necromance
flow versus yo petrol rants
You
This that new black Bent, Aston
This that who dat who askin ?
'99 the Outsidaz told me I wouldn't
I'm too
But here I am, two boys two two errors in
And they over there on pills and
Forks in they careers so that's real
If I could just get you clean my charities
I might just let you 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
the Stitches approach
If I have to up, I'm slashin' 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
to subtract for a fraction of folks
Your favorite a diva
I put leaves around the heads of non-believers like of Ceasar
Wake me when the sleepers are done ignoring me,
I'll be with a full tank of gas
On
If you from the block, watch y'all
Watch y'all daughters, cuz I saw
Slaughter much as much as I saw hot sauce and hot dog
I came a long way from wishin' the stars
But I come all of this way just to say I've come this far
Coppin' with black cards
There's no limit when it comes to art
No for twitter followers
I dodged
I'm the non-equivocal and at large
Listenin' to a track in a villa in Calabasas
I'm that same little and Battle Cat kid
specialty pen and pad scenematics spazzin'
Fuckin' wit' a about as bad as my spendin' habits
I got nowhere askin' can I 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 respect then admiration
Get rid of fears
to remove doubts and
Think about it, two sculptors named Gutzon and Lincoln
Who dead president heads
Who got paid dead president heads by the
To a mountain
art deco
We keep the shit like the dails of Art Basel
Stompin' this hip-hop shit like it's our step show
We
We have bar mitzvahs for these bars
We the
We should shoot bar with these bars
the odds, look at the car see the rides
Don't be surprised, just
We ain't runnin' for
So, we worth shit
Unless we