Luyện nghe bài hát Dontbenobodysbitch

In search of something
I'm sick and of doing fuck niggas favors
I'm sick and tired of chasing down designer
So I said "fuck it, start up my own label"
Just please you, I just ain't capable
I'm sick and tired of make myself relatable
So please don't ask me why my low
'Cause madafucka i could do this with my closed

1]
How many hits? How pills do I gotta take to think of a hit?
To be at the top, how much cotton do I pick?
How many M's do I gotta get? make any sense
that a bitch? Ain't I legit?
Sinse I was a git, fuck my shit
I was a stubborn kid, I grew up stuttering, hoping that someone on top discover me
How many publicists do I
How many I gotta hire to check all this fuckery? Someone should cover this, I've had enough of this
I can't up this shit, I am on too many substances
How many streams? How many How many awards? How many rings?
with these dreams

Who I ride
not no clown-ass niggas, call you sideshows
And we, and we know that IG be telling lies, ho
I'mma reap the that I sow

2]
I find it odd, niggas saying "don't wife a thot"
But you thots behind the dignified facade
Your in knots, my life might appear more aligned a notch, but I'm on suicidal watch
(Hello? you ever wanna die a lot)
Well, commence the chords, B.o.B you sound and bored
I say we're a bunch of piles of shit with pores
That spend all day eating, then shit some
I don't want kids, I'm convinced, I'm
Pull out like my a sword
Eight billion people, 90% of them's poor, but fuck it, what's a few
Let's even get more shit to
Seventy on [?]
You on, you on, you on my
A dog, a dog, a dog only holler when hit
That something I said must got under your skin
Tell me, how can I get?
I fuck the feds, the twelve, the cia and apeshit
they can't do shit

Who I ride
Clown-ass niggas, call you
Your IG be lies, ho
reap the shit that I sow

In search of greater