Luyện nghe bài hát Go

Fuckin' put on a head, pair of headphones and shit, uh

Just took ten shots and I ain't out
Spent a grand and I ain't cash out
If you OG, bring the grass out
These filled up, bring the gas out
Talkin' 'bout shit that you know you stole
I have my fuckin' way with this game, no control
Drinking on gin 'cause I like alcohol
How the you supposed to win, you don't know how to ball
Turnt up but smoking
drive but my eyes barely open
See the cars, see the watch, see I moved up
In my smoking out watching True Blood
Tryna Taco to the strip club
Tryna take Tyler to the dealer bruh (I'm right guys!)
Tryna take Domo to the spot
True so I need pot

Go, I'm so loaded
Pockets and the smoke and all the
'em
Go, faded and I'm
I your lungs is open
All the bitches, 'em, go
(Now I been the world before
But I thought it'd be this way
And I smoked up all weed before
But I never thought feel this way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

Celebration shots got me really
Kind of famous, enough to laugh like I made it
enough to stir some controversy, bitch let's fucking tape it
I amazing, making digits off my fucking cadence
Suck a dick hater while I selfie with the Tower
Five star general, the Odd I'm Eisenhower
Said I couldn't make it, I show you niggas to fight the
Igniting sour, watching Chowder in my finest
A clearer mix of jazz and blue grass
still stuck in the past, opening new scabs
Me and Wiz matching bottles nigga, two tabs
out with six models, my nigga order two cabs
We ain't 'bout rivals, them niggas too trash
Fuck niggas think, I'm the illest one in the new class
And I don't give a fuck what niggas fuckin' with
OFWG run with the team or a dick

Go, I'm so fuckin'
and the smoke and all the bitches
'em
Go, and I'm floatin'
I hope lungs is open
All the bitches, 'em, go
(Now I been around the before
But I thought it'd be this way
And I smoked up all this before
But I never it'd feel this way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

Guitars sound like some Kill shit, watch it
That's that church tambourine
My used to play that

Golf

(Turn up)
I got old money, I got new
Put 'em together, I got money
Bank teller call my phone, she tell me I'm on
Twenty years of success, let's toast to the
Sip on some Ace I pour out the rest
Fuck bitches, get
Drink gin, their friends
Juicy J three hoes in a white on white
I stay codeine
Blue I'm rolling up
Looking for a bitch bank statements like Oprah
These black diamonds racist, V no laces
My on call coming straight up out the basement
All I know is money, it don't like you
One shot the chopper make you look like two

Go (Go, go, go, go, go, go, go)