Luyện nghe bài hát Last Call

[Intro: MC]

1: Classick MC (Future Freshman)]
Sun rises an open champagne glass
too the brim, watched that ass drop
Fortified G in the game, spend the spot, ask not
Doing what these cant, ask God, as for
All these haters here, gonna make a
Riding slow and turning wheels, sipping lean and burning
goes out to Vernon Hills, 59th and Midway Fields
Chi-town niggas, still steel
up Dilla, way too ill, Illinois be bumping Kells
Pissed niggas off with smiles
Looking like they Julia Childs, on the interstate
Shit like we serving pounds, bet you looking nervous now
Future Freshman, future sound, heads, future crowns

[Verse 2:
This is what we say
is not a game, joe
is why we lay low

Listen, Im so vicious, these cold
have you so frigid with no business
You kill your and you got no digits
Cause you with lame bitches that aint gifted
I lifted, I move and I aim different
I hate critics, they lived it, I paint vivid
I aint image, aint scripted, I stay in it
These fakes winded, with no passion
These cromagnons will backwards
I keep it moving till my soul
You cant catch me, Im a from Gods gun, Im flying fast
Stand here, look around, Im dying last
I laugh when I hear their lying ass
My whole circle, 360 the craft
This is my story from my to my head
Im giving you these lessons, hope you follow that

[Verse 3: Rashid
Follow that, that
Follow that, that

said it would be easy but I take it easy
Im thinking like Im Stevie as I wonder about the in my mind
Let it play, day with the trail I blaze
But never this thing like forever in
Look at them in the delicate scenes
Lost souls irrelevant means that never did leave
The life you might have see on television
I could tell our vision better scenes from they living
But Im still backseat, car of bitches, they got liquor and theyre sisters
They hard to read pyramids with hieroglyphics
No consequences, doing what we
Like raw, dont have a difference, its all good till the wings flipping
Halos, no cant go, a praying soul, no bank
But the fuck was we made for?