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 ridin'?
It's so much stuck on my mental, so much you on my mind
It's so much money and pussy, yeah, you'd think I'm goin'
I think it's... funny how blogs
Funny how many shows I had went to where walked
So many stories 'bout you and so-and-so who from
It ain't too from Harlem, so take a guess
a jet so I can recollect
You say, What's up with you, baby?, I always say, next?
I mean is we in it for?
Revenge your friends' circle like what did we enter for?
Tired of fancy dinners, I'm of diamond ballin'
I'm tired of hearin' if this nigga put hands on you
of tryna smile through shit that's affectin' us
Then I get to overthinkin' if I'm here up
Mac died and I couldn't talk, couldn't the thought
Two days before it, we was talkin' 'bout love and
Then he mentioned Ariana mama and newer
Never told a soul, but I knew he was dead all
You do to me
I write all my songs about women I never
I hate when I have to lose 'em, I hate 'em when it's
You one of my six women that's in the
I hate makin' promises that I keep
So to never ever be too patient with me
Justine, me
Love and loyalty, that's honesty (Uh)
The be talkin' but God controllin' me (Uh)
Roc dinners that 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 these niggas, nah
ass niggas