Luyện nghe bài hát Ice Cream

Young Money, syrup in the big
Time to do the thing, that's word to your wrist
Shoot the til it burn, til my wrist lock
Rims hella big, tires skinny like Chris
the gun sideways like O-Dog
Shoot a in his face, knock his nose off
Make the say my name like roll call
Pain got a nigga about to doze off
Big shit, nigga 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 niggas
1-900: who it? I deliver
Concrete shoes won't help in the
I don't care if you was Phelps my nigga
I'm higher the motherfucking Alps my nigga
I'm flyer than the motherfucking my nigga
Young shit, top-shelf my nigga
We the motherfuckers MILF my nigga
Ahem, flow like
Yea I'm in my mode, got a like Da Vinci's
I was in the trenches, now I'm in the
And everybody watch your back when you're in the
You never safe, stop playing with a gangsta
Bring it to his face and he ran like a
Bend the girl over, put her hands on her
I'm all over this ice beat like sprinkles
"Why you", if you's a hater
I'm eating, a waiter
Pistol on my hip: Raider
at your guala, zoom later
Young nigga, typhoon nigga
And if you think you're sweet, buy a room
nigga
I'm on my shit
She give me good brain she studied at Cambridge
Lighting up a motherfucking
Stupid fruity swag like a motherfucking
And I be with my dog like a hunting
day of the week is the first of the month
Audemars Piguet the diamonds in the face
Can't tell the cause the diamonds 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
this shit, now I'm feeling athletic
I'm on a bitch, getting sea sick
Stop playing, I'm fresher then a degree
Street shit, well, of course I mad weed
I'm on my high-horse, please shoot me down, I land feet flat
Then a million miles with New Orleans on my back
Ha, I a massage
And when it to hoes, man, I got a collage
on the button, nigga just 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 you kick it, well boy we puntin'
Young Money baby we the weak stomachs
No motherfucker