Luyện nghe bài hát Ice Cream

Young Money, syrup in the big
to do the thing, that's word to your wrist watch
Shoot the Glock til it burn, til my lock
Rims hella big, tires skinny like Rock
Hold the gun sideways O-Dog
Shoot a in his face, knock his nose off
Make the girls say my like roll call
killers got a nigga about to doze off
Big shit, talk big shit, nigga
Big bread like a picnic nigga
Shake the game like the hit-stick nigga
Money like germs: get sick nigga
Yea, and fuck them other
1-900: who want it? I
Concrete shoes help in the river
I don't care if you was Phelps my nigga
I'm higher than the motherfucking Alps my
I'm flyer than the stealth my nigga
Young Money shit, my nigga
We the like MILF my nigga
Ahem, flow like
Yea I'm in my mode, got a code like Da
I was in the trenches, now I'm in the
And everybody watch your back you're in the front
You ain't safe, stop playing with a gangsta
Bring it to his face and he ran a flanker
Bend the girl over, put her on her ankles
I'm all over this ice cream like sprinkles
"Why you", if you's a hater
I'm eating, you's a
Pistol on my hip: Tomb
Holla at your guala, zoom
Young Tune nigga, typhoon
And if you you're sweet, buy a room nigga
nigga
I'm on my gang
She give me good brain she studied at Cambridge
Lighting up a blunt
Stupid swag like a motherfucking runt
And I be my dog like a motherfucker hunting
Every day of the is the first of the month
Audemars Piguet with the diamonds in the
Can't tell the time cause the in the face
We can get it popping like a automatic
And if you got I put the biscuit on a patty
Rockstar tatted, big-money
Running this shit, now I'm athletic
I'm on a boat bitch, sea sick
Stop playing, I'm fresher then a degree
Street shit, well, of course I smoke mad
I'm on my high-horse, please don't me down, I land feet flat
walk a million miles with New Orleans on my back
Ha, I need a
And it comes to hoes, man, I got a collage
Finger on the button, just stuntin'
If you the bank teller, don't tell me nothin'
so strong you can smell me comin'
Bitch, I go like the boy from "300"
You think you kick it, well boy we
Young Money we the shit weak stomachs
No motherfucker