Luyện nghe bài hát Future

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

now Khaled told me kill 'em, he just told me kill 'em
Hundred for the Beamer, Kudos for the
Murder, bet I it, Kudos to the killer
Chevy sittin' crooked, teeth on Reggie
I'm a motherfuckin' beast, see me in sleep
Nightmare on any street, swear I mark any beat
Spread this to the industry, lyrics like a chopper
Flow right through fitted T, pull this through with chemistry
Hottest nigga 'round, they saying is my tendency
No such thing as sympathy, more money, my
Pockets on, heavy D, bitch I'm hot, degree
I drive? Owned by me, wrists and neck, anti-freeze
Can it be? I'm who you to be'
of a dying breed, I'm Siamese
Twin pistol shooter like a 7B
Big dog, get it, you still on your
Yeah, fly with some stupid swag
Dead keep my money in the body bag
And the G-U-T-T-A, hops in the whip and I gotta get
them bitches, ain't trying to get laid
Walk in my house you can my maid
And you give a damn you can that Lac
Push that Benz on, push 'Lade, hop to the whip
No top on mine, hear a nigga hate, man them guys
Real nigga shit, tell no lie
Private plane, my seat recline, top 10 charts, I reside
Got me a ?

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

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

Forever dedicated, poetic genius
Some think they to seeing me
em they close to Stevie
You poser niggas ain't to be here
We believe ya.
Double MG'er, we put a wreath on niggas'
We the best,
No to stress, Khaled
there's a lot of artists
But I got the best
colors, my mind's more productive than others
Murray the winner, he he really
Nelson
That's though.
One time for the 305,
That hydro me tired, yo
My be so Tai Bo!
My be so tight rope
That's to find Quick Tri-Flow
Get rough With me, Night flow
Hoes blow for me, I maestro,
white whip sit
Like a slight slit
Suicide shit, you can by if you write this shit
and right this minute, they say I'm buzzing hard
My driver's out of world, you playing bumper cars.
You under-cards
You be unemployed
All you smoke is Reggie, I'm in the telly of noise
Who gon' tell me I ain't going or I ain't flowin'
Folarin, you see them puters
That was my

The towers fell, turning to Zero
didn't like Reggie Jackson
Nicki their hero
As I play Rothstein, like Rob De Niro
Been through it but here
Don't move with the
Dress the toast like let's win
Penthouses on and 4th, pipes and Mac 6
me in a Maserati bricking his best friends
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 have no clout, the on it
What the fiends
Few roaches, you need spray, on tours, eat
Making sure all your feet
Get the pills through, peel SRT-8 truck on, seats gray
Drop tops like dates, Vado