Luyện nghe bài hát Ice Cream

Young Money, syrup in the big
Time to do the thing, that's word to wrist watch
Shoot the Glock til it burn, til my wrist
Rims big, tires skinny like Chris Rock
the gun sideways like O-Dog
Shoot a nigga in his face, knock his off
Make the say my name like roll call
Pain killers got a nigga to doze off
Big shit, nigga big shit, nigga
Big bread: bread a picnic nigga
Shake the game like the hit-stick nigga
Money spread like germs: get nigga
Yea, and fuck them niggas
who want it? I deliver
Concrete won't help in the river
I don't if you was Michael Phelps my nigga
I'm higher than the motherfucking my nigga
I'm flyer than the stealth my nigga
Money shit, top-shelf my nigga
We the motherfuckers MILF my nigga
Ahem, flow like
Yea I'm in my mode, got a code Da Vinci's
I was in the trenches, now I'm in the
And everybody watch your back when you're in the
You ain't never safe, stop playing with a
Bring it to his face and he ran like a
Bend the girl over, put her on her ankles
I'm all this ice cream beat like sprinkles
"Why thank you", if you's a
I'm eating, you's a
Pistol on my hip: Tomb
Holla at your guala, zoom
Young nigga, typhoon nigga
And if you think sweet, buy a room nigga
nigga
I'm on my shit
She give me brain like she studied at Cambridge
Lighting up a motherfucking
Stupid fruity swag like a motherfucking
And I be with my dog like a hunting
Every day of the is the first of the month
Audemars Piguet with the in the face
Can't tell the time the diamonds in the face
We can get it popping a semi automatic
And if you got I put the biscuit on a patty
Rockstar tatted, addict
this shit, now I'm feeling athletic
I'm on a bitch, getting sea sick
Stop playing, I'm fresher then a degree
shit, well, of course I smoke mad weed
I'm on my high-horse, please don't me down, I land feet flat
Then walk a million miles with New on my back
Ha, I a massage
And when it to hoes, man, I got a collage
Finger on the button, nigga stuntin'
If you ain't the bank teller, don't tell me
Kush so strong you can me comin'
Bitch, I go like the boy from "300"
You think you it, well boy we puntin'
Young Money baby we the weak stomachs
No motherfucker