Luyện nghe bài hát Drop

Let me the funk
is the punk that talk more junk than Sanford sells
I jet propel at a rate that complice mental state
As I invade their

They couldn't with a clipper blade
10 years in the trade is not enough, you cut it
I let you a swing, and you bunted
For an easy out, I leave with doubt

Of exceeding, my name is Bottie Brown and I'm proceeding,
try to follow but they're shallow and hollow
I can see right through them like an 40 bottle, of O.E.
They have no key, or no

To the at all, now they washed up
out to dry
Standing looking stupid, why
(Why man?)

It was the fame, they tried to get
Now walking around talking about represent
And keep it real, but I got to
'Cause they existing in a when holding the steel

Rock a bye
Listen to my heart pumping to a fine
Of all things a vain of a shrine
All missions are possible

'Cause I'm heading for a new 365 days from now
I'll the sweat from my brow
And each and every will stick, or fall from the sky of my cloud nine
homies all the way to chics, no matter how fine

Controlling is a swollen way to wreck a mind
You hold it in your hands and a man start crying
after tear in the puppet man's hands
Every time you take a stance you do the puppet man's

And the at a stand-still
in broken Mansville, trapped in the moat with an anvil
Still killing yourself, and dogging ya
You ain't amphibious, so grab a of yourself