Luyện nghe bài hát Future

I am the streets, the
I introduce you to Ace Hood, Mills
Big Sean, Wale, Vado, this the
They gettin' money, they makin' hit records, they

Okay now Khaled told me 'em, he just told me kill 'em
for the Beamer, Kudos for the dealer
Murder, bet I it, Kudos to the killer
sittin' crooked, teeth on Reggie Miller
I'm a motherfuckin' beast, see me in your
on any street, swear I will mark any beat
Spread this to the industry, lyrics like a piece
Flow right through your fitted T, pull this with chemistry
Hottest nigga 'round, they greatness is my tendency
No such as sympathy, more money, my remedy
Pockets on, heavy D, bitch I'm hot, third
Whip I Owned by me, wrists and neck, anti-freeze
Can it be? I'm who you to be'
Last of a breed, I'm Siamese
pistol shooter nigga like a 7B
Big dog, get it, you on your pedigree
Yeah, fly nigga with stupid swag
Dead faces keep my in the body bag
And the G-U-T-T-A, hops in the whip and I get paid
Fuck them bitches, ain't trying to get
Walk in my house you can meet my
And you give a damn you can that Lac
that Benz on, push that 'Lade, hop to the whip
No top on mine, hear a nigga hate, man fuck them
Real nigga shit, don't no lie
Private plane, my seat recline, top 10 charts, where I
Got me a ?

We the best, word to my mama
Ridin' presidential, got me like Obama
'Cause all I is change
And my niggas they the same
I wanted the money and never the
I turned into they never became
all the rain, I kept my flame
And I kept burning and its my and
Real nigga my hood it
Now it's 6 2's on closed
And Maybach, let me take em way back
When I was starving that was
where that cake at?
Murder all your
And I, I, I, I can that love,
But I that hate
I got that ? I just feel so safe
I put it to your mug, you ain't wake
When thing gon' fly
Got a kick, but it ain't no tired
Niggas talk murder, but they ain't gon
Now we goin' hard like I ain't die
Mill!

Do it! OK
Smoke I got no lungs
Got her down, no teeth
I it "speaking tongues"
Do it! Do it!
Now you my language
From where they twist and talk they fingers
Man but this ain't no sign
Fresh out of the
This a Detroit fucking classic from when MM got the
Trick got them passes
Bitch I'm from the Motor,
that motor be the fastest bitch,
They call it City
'Cause most likely to crash (fuck it)
thing I got a chauffeur
Going No sir!
Bitch I'm the rap stylist,
'Cause I gave the rap style bitch
But I over shine, no niggas over Sean
Toll by the quarter so I guess we're going overtime.
'Til Dumb high, dumb high
Westside, bitch I run
I'm rolling in my old school, I feel like the alumni
Fucking hoes, no strings
So ask me why they strung out
I'm like to you niggas
I might even stick my out
She wiggled and wobble,
landed on my throttle
Bitch, I make you my baby
And even buy you a
Yo don't ask how the top feel?
When you keep em' right you
My pockets got on paper
This shit just look a novel boy
100 thousand of ice on me now
But it feel half as good
As grandma saying proud

dedicated, Maybach poetic genius
Some think they to seeing me
Tell em close to Stevie
You niggas ain't supposed to be here
We don't ya.
MG'er, we put a wreath on niggas' careers
We the best,
No need to stress,
there's a lot of artists
But I got the palette
Multiple colors, my mind's productive than others
the winner, he think he really
Nelson
That's though.
One time for the 305,
That hydro me tired, yo
My be so Tai Bo!
My balance be so rope
That's hard to Quick Tri-Flow
Get rough With me, that Night
Hoes for me, I maestro, shit
That whip sit
a slight wrist slit
Suicide shit, you can by if you write this shit
Nigga and right this minute, say I'm buzzing hard
My driver's out of this world, you playing cars.
You under-cards
You be unemployed
All you smoke is Reggie, I'm in the bunch of noise
Who gon' tell me I ain't going or I ain't flowin'
Young Folarin, you see them
was my influence

The fell, turning to Ground Zero
Kids didn't Reggie Jackson
Nicki their hero
As I Rothstein, Corleone like Rob De Niro
Been it but here though
Don't move with the
Dress pimpin' the toast like win
Penthouses on and 4th, pipes and Mac 6
While me in a Maserati bricking his best
When I die, tell them to turn my to stretch Benz rims on it
My man's on, see him, we stomp him out
His mouth, our on it
Always smoking a ounce, a mountain, no on it
Spins on it, you no clout, the Benz on it
What the say?
Few roaches, you need spray, on tours, eat
Making all your feet sprayed
Get the pills through, peel through truck on, seats gray
Drop like release dates, Vado