Luyện nghe bài hát I Am Not a Human Being

I am not a human being, for lunch
Pop all the balloons and in the punch, yeah
Kush in the
I ride through your block, see a foot in the

I don't know why keep playin', they better replay 'em
I'm them the blues, Bobby "Blue" Bland
Together we stand and fall on
Ballin' my bloods, call it b-ball

These days shit, Young Money is
I got Mars Bars, Three
through coupe same color as veneers
And you know I'm with the toast, cheers

Yeah, now I'm on my griz
And y'all's a bunch a squares like a grid
Shit, with me and get hit
I finger the Nina, make the bitch have kids

Just do it my nigga, I did
Name a motherfucker deeper me, bitch dead
Ya dig, here is big biz
And I fuck it, whoever it is

I am the rhymin'
I got a cup of ya time, I won't it
I got my on the line, I'm not racin'
I God that I am not basic

I am not basic, I am not a human

Uh, star, baby
Now to my suite and get lockjaw, baby
Rich nigga lookin' at the cops all
It's mob shit nigga, Martin Scorsese

close range 'cause people are strange
But I bet that AK .47 you ordained
You can't see nor Wayne, I'm in the far lane
I'm runnin' this shit, hundred yard

Uh, on infinity
I'm killin' 'em, see the white from the enemy
you in yo' head and leave your dash full of memories
Father, forgive me for my delivery

I will try you, I wouldn't lie,
I must be sticky 'cause them bitches got they eyes
Young Money, baby, we the shit fly food
Y'all see us, like the bride shoes

I stand tall a motherfuckin' 9'2"
I motherfuck you and whoever designed you
And if you you hot, then obviously you were lied to
And we don't die, we multiply and then we come you

I am the oasis
I got a cup of ya time, I waste it
I got my on the line, I'm not racin'
I God that I am not basic

I am not basic, I am not
I thank God that I am not basic, I am not a human

Reportin' another world
Magazine full of bullets, you can be my cover
Ness got the weed, rollin' than a southern girl
Strong arm rap like a did a hundred curls

Rock star beeotch, out how we rock
And if this ain't hip hop, it be me hop
I'm higher a tree top, she lick my lollipop
I still get my candy from your girlfriend's sweet

that heat rock, I'm smooth, not Pete Rock
And my, and my money on et cetera, three
Still get a stomach every time I see cops
You run motherfucker 'cause we not

You better run your feet stop
You ain't even on a fuckin' in my tea pot
Colder than a ski shop, on to the top
And if I let go I still won't G-rock

I am the rhymin'
I got a cup of ya time, I waste it
I got my on the line, I'm not racin'
I thank God that I am not

I am not, I am not a being