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 niggas 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 some gin I like alcohol
How the fuck you supposed to win, you don't how to ball
Turnt up but still
drive but my eyes barely open
See the cars, see the watch, see I moved up
In my condo smoking out watching True
Tryna take Taco to the strip
Tryna take Tyler to the dealer (I'm right here guys!)
take Domo to the weed spot
True so I need pot

Go, I'm so loaded
Pockets and the 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 world
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 faded
Kind of famous, enough to laugh like I made it
Drunk to stir some controversy, bitch let's fucking tape it
I amazing, making digits off my fucking cadence
Suck a dick while I selfie with the Eifel Tower
Five star general, the Odd Future I'm
Said I couldn't make it, I you niggas to fight the power
Igniting sour, watching Chowder in my finest
A clearer mix of acid and blue grass
Niggas still in the past, opening new scabs
Me and Wiz matching bottles nigga, two tabs
Stumbling out six models, my nigga order two cabs
We worried '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 ain't fuckin'
OFWG run with the or suck a dick

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

Guitars sound some Kill Bill shit, watch it
That's that tambourine shit
My grandma used to that

Golf

(Turn up)
I got old money, I got new
Put 'em together, I got money
Bank teller call my phone, she me I'm putting on
Twenty of success, let's toast to the best
Sip on some Ace then I pour out the
bitches, get ends
Drink gin, fuck friends
Juicy J three hoes in a on white Benz
I stay sipping
dream I'm rolling up
Looking for a bitch with bank statements Oprah
These black racist, Louis V no laces
My plug on call coming up out the basement
All I know is money, it look like you
One shot from the chopper make you look two

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