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
hella big tires skinny like Chris Rock
Ho hold the gun sideways O dogg
Shoot a n-gga in his face knock his off
the girls say my name like roll call
Pain killers got a bout ta doze off
Big shit n-gga big sh-t n-gga
Big bread like a picnic n-gga
Shake the whole game like the hit stick
Money like germs get sick n-gga
Yeaa, And them other n-ggas,
1 9 hundred who I deliver
Concrete shoes wont help in the
I dont care if you was Michael my n-gga
Im higher the mothaf-ckin Alps my n-gga
Im than the mothaf-ckin stealth my n-gga
Young sh-t top shelf my n-gga
We the mothaf-ckas like Milf my

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

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

We can get it poppin like a semi
And if you got I put the biscuit on the patty
Rockstar tatted, big addict
this sh-t now Im feelin athletic
I Im on a boat bitch, sea sick
Stop playin Im then a degree stick
Street sh-t, well of course, I mad weed
Im on my high horse, please dont shoot me down, i land flat
Then walk a million miles New Orleans on my back
Haha, I a massage,
and when it come to man I got a collage
Finger on the button, n-gga just
If you aint the bank teller dont me nuntin
Kush so strong you can smell me
B-tch I go like the boy from 300
You ya kick it,well boy we puntin
Young Money we the sh-t weak stomachs
No Ceilings.Mothaf-cka