Luyện nghe bài hát Ice Cream Paint Job

Young Money, syrup in the big
to do the thing thats word to your wrist watch
Shoot the glock it burn till my wrist lock
Rims hella big tires like Chris Rock
Ho hold the gun like O dogg
Shoot a in his face knock his nose off
Make the girls say my like roll call
Pain got a n-gga bout ta doze off
Big shit n-gga talk big sh-t
Big bread like a picnic n-gga
Shake the whole game like the hit n-gga
Money spread like germs get n-gga
Yeaa, And f-ck them n-ggas,
1 9 who want I deliver
Concrete shoes wont help in the
I dont care if you was Phelps my n-gga
Im higher the mothaf-ckin Alps my n-gga
Im flyer than the mothaf-ckin my n-gga
Young Money sh-t top my n-gga
We the mothaf-ckas Milf my n-gga

UhUhm, Flow like
Yea im in my got a code like Da Vinci
I was in the trenches, now im in the
And watch your back,when your in the front
You aint never safe playin with a gangsta
Bring it to his and he ran like a flanker
Bend the girl put her hands on her ankles
Im all over this ice beat like sprinkles

Why thank you,if you a
Im eatin, a waiter
on my hip, Tomb Raider
Holla at your gualla, sue em'
Young n-gga, typhoon n-gga
And if you think sweet, buy a room n-gga
Damo n-gga, Im on my sh-t,
She give me good brain like she studied at
Lightin up a blunt,
stupid fruity like a mothaf-ckin runt
And I be my dog like a mothaf-cka hunt
Everyday of the is the first of the month
Audemar Piguet with the diamonds in the
Cant tell the time cause the in the face

We can get it poppin a semi automatic
And if you got beef I put the biscuit on the
tatted, big money addict
Running sh-t now Im feelin athletic
I Im on a boat bitch, sea sick
Stop Im fresher then a degree stick
Street sh-t, of course, I smoke mad weed
Im on my high horse, please dont me down, i land feet flat
Then walk a million with New Orleans on my back
Haha, I a massage,
and it come to hoes man I got a collage
Finger on the button, just stuntin
If you aint the teller dont tell me nuntin
so strong you can smell me coming
B-tch I go hard the boy from 300
You think ya it,well boy we puntin
Young Money we the sh-t weak stomachs
No Ceilings.Mothaf-cka