Luyện nghe bài hát Ice Cream Paint Job

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

UhUhm, like 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 with a
Bring it to his face and he ran a flanker
Bend the girl put her hands on her ankles
Im all this ice cream 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 Tune n-gga, n-gga
And if you think your sweet, buy a n-gga
n-gga, Im on my gang sh-t,
She give me good brain she studied at Cambridge
Lightin up a 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
tell the time cause the diamonds in the face

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