Luyện nghe bài hát Girlfriend

[Hook- X3]
Your girlfriend, in a
She's pretend, that's she a virgin
She told her boyfriend, she was her friend
But I'm for certain, I ain't workin'
in person, to see her flirtin'
Suckin' n slirpin, and showin' her
And now her boyfriend, n cursin
But I'm alertin, That I hurt him*

*Only said the time the hook is sung*

King

Koopa
(keep repeating koopa)
Ay mayne, this ghetto mayne
keep it gutta mayne

I ain't gonna rap on this, but I know somebody else might

Boo]
Like mud in my blood, judge got me in
Purple in my koolaid, cases what I'm facin'
Mama say I wait for drivers education
But I hit the dealership, 'cause lil boo is not
Thirteen old, stay hoppin' outta vogues
Catch me at adult shows, puttin' up on yellow
Ask me if I drove, yep fa sho
Smile when my trunk open, frown my trunk close
Freeway call n tell ya sister that fine
Beyonce on the phone, on the other line
I gotta curfew, I watch b.e.t. nine
After it's lil kim n sprite can up on my mind
jerseys, hypnotic thats old
Color changin click dresses, thats the dress code
Nike lebron, nike me I was supposed to
But I got those lebron james, up on my toes
It's lil boo mayne, lil boo mayne, it's lil boo mayne

It's lil boo mayne, it's lil boo mayne, lil boo mayne
lil boo mayne, hold up

[Lil talking]
up foo
Call these bois mayne, these concepters out here
They see us grindin', tryna make paper
This is ghetto mayne
put me on this funny beats no mo
Come on, up the mic uh

Lay it down, lay it
Ya lay it down
Lay 'em down, lay 'em
The pad lay 'em
Lay it down, lay it
Ya mic lay it
Lay it down, lay it
Ya foos lay it
I'm hear, rappin' in ya right ears
Spittin' in ya left
This is south, I ain't worried bout the west side
Or the east coast, lets wit red eyes on them haters keep close
They say my skills is makin'
I'm wearin' ice religously so I tell 'em god bless
Niggaz out soft, like maple car stressed
And I'm (Breathing) like a dogs
And I even harness, my full is potential
But for some reason, I bullet proof on instrumentals
And so chamillion, is it coincidental?
off the dome, forget a freakin' pencil
I don't care what ya bin through, this the
Send ya be rappers on the ricky late make over
the days over
I'm wit ya good drankin', and she to my nuts
now that's I call a hang over
Game over, spit fire like a flame
the man is colder, than a can of soda
Haha, I'm outta ya league sammy sosa
Nigga, jus that