Luyện nghe bài hát Go (Gas)

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

Just took ten and I ain't passed out
Spent a hundred and I ain't cash out
If you smoking OG, the grass out
These niggas up, bring the gas out
Talkin' some shit that you know you stole
I have my fuckin' way this game, no remote control
Drinking on some gin 'cause I like
How the fuck you supposed to win, you don't how to ball
Turnt up but still
Tryna drive but my barely open
See the cars, see the watch, see I moved up
In my condo smoking out watching Blood
take Taco to the strip club
Tryna take to the dealer bruh (I'm right here guys!)
take Domo to the weed spot
True pothead so I pot

Go, I'm so fuckin'
Pockets and the smoke and all the
'em
Go, faded and I'm
I hope your lungs is
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"

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

Go, I'm so fuckin'
and the smoke 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 never thought it'd be way
And I smoked up all this weed
But I never thought it'd feel way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

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

Golf

(Turn up)
I got old money, I got new
Put 'em together, I got money
Bank call my phone, she tell me I'm putting on
years 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 hoes in a white on white Benz
I stay sipping
Blue dream I'm up
Looking for a bitch with bank like Oprah
These diamonds racist, Louis V no laces
My plug on call straight up out the basement
All I is money, it don't look like you
One shot from the chopper make you like two

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