Luyện nghe bài hát Justine's Interlude

Feels to be home
Yeah, yeah, uh

If I got you and my son and my god on my
What's the point of anybody else
It's so much stuck on my mental, it's so you on my mind
It's so money and pussy, yeah, you'd think I'm goin' blind
I think it's... funny how blogs
how many shows I had went to where models walked
So many stories 'bout you and so-and-so who from
It ain't too many from Harlem, so a guess
Takin' a jet so I can
You say, What's up with you, baby?, I always say, What's
I mean is we in it for?
Revenge from your friends' circle like what did we enter
of fancy dinners, I'm tired of diamond ballin'
I'm tired of hearin' 'bout if this put hands on you
Tired of tryna smile through that's affectin' us
Then I get to if I'm here messin' up
Mac died and I couldn't talk, couldn't bear the
Two days before it, we was 'bout love and loss
Then he mentioned mama and newer songs
Never a soul, but I knew he was dead all along
You do to me
I write all my about women I never keep
I hate when I have to 'em, I hate 'em when it's deep
You one of my six that's in the east
I hate makin' that I never keep
So promise to ever be too patient with me
Justine, me
Love and loyalty, that's honesty (Uh)
The devil be talkin' but God me (Uh)
Roc Nation dinners inquire 'bout Meek (Uh)
My God the realest (Uh), that's how we (Uh)

Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh
Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

Harlem Shake on niggas, nah mean?
ass niggas