Luyện nghe bài hát Fire Squad (Freestyle)

Niggas like they're kings 'til i walk up on their throne
Take a piss, kiss the ring, know it hurts, know it
Red on the beam... Flocka home
The kids misdirected and the cops are
Man they rattin' on other, then they back at home
Actin' like it never happened, wow
What's Another rapper dead, no flex
I'm at your head, who the best?
Cut the check, closed never get fed
Take the food off your plate, it in your face
I can't hear your shit, of silence
the violence if you're proposin' a rising
Their fan mad I killed their favorite rapper
I'm still your favorite trapper's favorite
Fuck freestyles, kill 'em with the rhymes
And all you cokehead rappers better get in
No subliminals, I'm direct off
Your clique is soft, let your bitch it with a boss
We're two people from the bottom, just different lanes
Cole I feel your pain, like I was born again

This the tiger and the lion, this is and Goliath
Qua-ran and the Bible, this the pistol and the rifle
In the I ignite you - boom!
It's a cold world and I'm sneezin' bricks
And we got grey tickets, on my season
Break them chickens down, we season it
Re-press it, then send it, that's an easy
my enemies, they just envy me
Now business entities, it was meant to be
Squad 'til they sentence me to centuries
Can't get to me, I handle shit
We had shit, wonder why we lootin'
If he ain't got a pistol, why the fuck he
I think them drugs pollutant, should've a student
But then I wouldn't be on stage givin' out the
Holler at the movement, I'm about to it
And when I do, lay it down, ain't no movement
like, "Flock, what up with EDM?"
Same lowkey don't wanna see me win
50 for a verse, I don't need a friend
And I don't really like your music, so why
And how you gangbangin' after famous?
Swear of you brainless, you rappers are aimless
You rappers are anus, I'm the stainless
This accurate aimin', start your names in
It's a new world

a dollar out a quarter, made some dollars out of quarters
Now the show's the boarders and they're slaughterin' our daughters
And killin' all our sons, this shit ain't just for fun
We to put our hands up and box on the block
Now you put your up and get shot by a cop
I sat first class by McClurkin
He said, "God got a plan, man, keep workin'"
I know, Flocka!