Luyện nghe bài hát Go (Gas) [Explicit]

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

took ten shots and I ain't passed out
Spent a hundred and I ain't cash out
If you smoking OG, the grass out
niggas filled up, bring the gas out
Talkin' some shit that you know you stole
I have my way with 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
up but still smoking
Tryna but my eyes barely open
See the cars, see the watch, see I moved up
In my condo smoking out watching Blood
Tryna Taco to the strip club
take Tyler to the dealer bruh (I'm right here guys!)
Tryna take to the weed spot
pothead 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 before
But I never it'd be this way
And I smoked up all this before
But I thought it'd feel this way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

Celebration got me really faded
Kind of famous, enough to like I really made it
Drunk enough to stir some controversy, bitch fucking tape it
I amazing, making digits off my fucking cadence
a dick hater while I selfie with the Eifel Tower
Five general, the Odd Future I'm Eisenhower
I couldn't make it, I show you niggas to fight the power
Igniting sour, watching Chowder in my finest
A clearer mix of acid jazz and grass
Niggas 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 worried 'bout rivals, them niggas too trash
Fuck niggas think, I'm the illest one in the new class
And I don't a fuck what niggas ain't fuckin' with
OFWG run with the or suck a dick

Go, I'm so fuckin'
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 around the world before
But I never it'd be this way
And I up all this weed before
But I never it'd feel this way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

Guitars sound like Kill Bill 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 call my phone, she tell me I'm putting on
years of success, let's toast to the best
Sip on some Ace I pour out the rest
bitches, get ends
Drink gin, fuck friends
J three hoes in a white on white Benz
I sipping codeine
dream I'm rolling up
Looking for a bitch with bank statements like
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 from the chopper make you look like two

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