Luyện nghe bài hát Hive

Promise Heron I'll put my fist up I get my dick sucked
Quick buck, 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 with these niggas, nigga listen
The description fit, if not a synonym of menace, then forget it
In turn, these critics and interns the shit spit
It just burn like six writ it
It affixed learning digits, and simultaneously
"Dispelling myths, isn't he?"
One adolescent, six-nigga energy
And crawling down fax like a nigga centipede
Crack ceramic and slap a out of cash account
Stamp and shouting, thrashing, niggas done let the Kraken out
Crack-a-lackin', snap, crackle, poppin' your ammo off
your face, and throw your flannels off, Sweatshirt, nigga
(Sweatshirt, nigga)

'87 roof top,
Whipping tryna boost raw chronic
(Brutus in that booth, scoop, hock vomit up)
(Sub rocking, thud niggas teeth loose)
Bruh, I fuck with no cop
(Rolling with that swamp)
Catch me stove top
(Rapping to that rock)
(Passionless in old clothing
them doors wide open)
(Dim the lights, focused)
Like nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch

From a city that's
With stress niggas could metal with, peddle to rake pennies in
testaments trying to stay Jekyll-ish
But most niggas Hyde, and just stay pregnant
Breaking news: death's less important when the Lakers
There's lead in that food, heads try to make it through
legs for them eyes that she cater to
Ride dirty as the fucking sky that you to
So here I sit, eye in the
God spit it like truth serum in that beer and then
Disappear again, bearded
On top of a lear, steering it into the ear again
Provider of the backdrop
For the rock user and the mascot, Earl
Rawer than the 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 burnt pollo off the grill and
Spitter of the Nick, nimble, rickrolling
Bitch niggas pick litter, piff-blower, plus I pillage

'87 top, Bronson
Whipping hoopties tryna boost raw
(Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hock up)
(Sub rocking, thud niggas teeth loose)
Bruh, I fuck with no cop
(Rolling that flow swamp)
Catch me over top
(Rapping to coke rock)
(Passionless in old clothing
With them wide open)
(Dim the lights, focused)
Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing,

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

Like it's nothing, cause nothing, bitch