Luyện nghe bài hát Go (Gas) [Explicit]

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

Just took ten shots and I ain't out
Spent a hundred and I ain't cash out
If you OG, bring the grass out
These filled up, bring the gas out
'bout some shit that you know you stole
I have my way with this game, no remote control
on some gin 'cause I like alcohol
How the fuck you supposed to win, you don't how to ball
up but still smoking
Tryna drive but my barely open
See the cars, see the watch, see I moved up
In my smoking out watching True Blood
Tryna take Taco to the strip
Tryna Tyler to the dealer bruh (I'm right here guys!)
Tryna Domo to the weed 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 hope your is open
All the bitches, 'em, go
(Now I been around the before
But I thought it'd be this way
And I up all this weed before
But I thought it'd feel this way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

shots got me really faded
Kind of famous, enough to like I really made it
Drunk enough to some controversy, bitch let's fucking tape it
I feel amazing, making digits off my fucking
Suck a dick while I selfie with the Eifel Tower
Five general, the Odd Future I'm Eisenhower
Said I couldn't it, I show you niggas to fight the power
Igniting sour, watching Chowder in my hour
A clearer mix of acid and blue grass
Niggas still in the past, opening new scabs
Me and Wiz matching bottles nigga, open two
Stumbling out with six models, my order two cabs
We ain't worried 'bout rivals, niggas too trash
Fuck what niggas think, I'm the one in the new class
And I don't give a fuck what niggas ain't fuckin'
run with the team or suck a dick

Go, I'm so loaded
and the smoke and all the bitches
'em
Go, and I'm floatin'
I hope your is open
All the bitches, 'em, go
(Now I been around the before
But I never thought 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 some Kill Bill shit, watch it
That's church tambourine shit
My grandma to play that

Wang

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

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