Luyện nghe bài hát Hive

Promise I'll put my fist up after I get my dick sucked
buck, maybe a gold chain
With that flow that s-s-so belittles men
tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished
Stone cold, hardly fucking these niggas, nigga listen
The description doesn't fit, if not a synonym of menace, then it
In turn, critics and interns admitting the shit spit
It just burn like six writ it
It affixed learning digits, and simultaneously
"Dispelling myths, isn't he?"
One adolescent, fucking energy
And down fax like a rich nigga centipede
Crack ceramic and slap a hand out of account
Stamp and shouting, thrashing, niggas done let the Kraken out
Crack-a-lackin', snap, crackle, poppin' your ammo off
Hide your face, and your flannels off, Sweatshirt, nigga
(Sweatshirt, nigga)

'87 top, Bronson
Whipping hoopties tryna boost raw
(Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hock up)
(Sub rocking, knocking niggas teeth loose)
Bruh, I don't with no cop
(Rolling with that swamp)
me over stove top
(Rapping to that rock)
(Passionless in old Jive
With doors wide open)
(Dim the lights, focused)
Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing,

From a that's recession-hit
stress niggas could flex metal with, peddle to rake pennies in
Desolate testaments to stay Jekyll-ish
But most niggas Hyde, and Brenda just stay
Breaking news: death's less important when the lose
There's lead in that food, heads try to make it through
Fish-netted for them eyes that she cater to
Ride dirty as the fucking sky you praying to
So I sit, eye in the pyramid
God it like it's truth serum in that beer and then
Disappear again, bearded
On top of a lear, steering it the kids' ear again
of the backdrop music
For the crack rock and the mascot, Earl
than the skinned knee cap on the blacktop
Salivary glands, lighter for the matchbox
Striking, wait, wait, who the fuck you than?
Boy oh boy, I'm bad as pollo off the grill and shit
Spitter of the Nick, nimble, rickrolling
Bitch pick litter, piff-blower, plus I pillage shit

'87 roof top,
Whipping hoopties boost raw chronic
(Brutus in that booth, scoop, hock vomit up)
(Sub rocking, thud niggas teeth loose)
Bruh, I don't fuck no cop
(Rolling that flow swamp)
Catch me over top
(Rapping to coke rock)
(Passionless in old Jive
them doors wide open)
(Dim the lights, focused)
Like nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch

Quit with all that tough talk, bruh, we know you niggas ain't shit
Come around, we gun 'em down, bodies piled,
Bulletproof outfits, concealed
I'm ready to kill, so it, all my weapons is real
Selling thizz, couldn't him what the recipe is
Got 'em wishing that they never gave these weapons to kids,
Send chills up of fat bitches after
Shows throwing out sandwiches, get it how they
Live and I live for money, other words, I'm getting
Little boy told me when it's time to ride, send them for me
Ain't nobody scaring me, niggas ain't for heat
Tools hit like sticks, the way I cue shit
If this was '88, I have signed to Ruthless
Nine-four, would've had them down Death Row
First is when the best go, hate is what the do
Voice my head told me, "Wet 'em if they test you"
So it's Raging Waters
That yomper big as Larry Johnson, leave your seedless
Everybody hard until only God they seeing
Kittens soft but in songs be trapping hard as Jeezy, I don't believe it
But to each his own, I ain't tripping long as I can reach the
Heat your home like Southern Gas, police pass
Tell 'em "Free Smalls," off Palm with the heat
Strapped up long as the for police armed
where the beasts are, north of the Beach
A couple streets past Baby J, bony spraying Ks
Ruger with the face, Jewish for the court case
Here to you niggas from the sorbet, Coldchain

Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing,