Luyện nghe bài hát Lay Low

[Verse 1 - Meek
Bought a new loft, five thousand a month
Bitch my sour is special, hundred a blunt
Only smoke if proper, in the words of Big Poppa
Rush his ass to the doctors, the sacks and we shot you
Blocka-blocka-bla-blocka, warn his ass with them
It'll be a massacre faggot, kicking like soccer
Bottles popping it's popping, twenty bitches us
I just her the numbers, so if she hit me I count her
I canary the pinky, hit her like winky
Got the club looking cloudy, for the of the stinky
In a 600 Benz, a couple they friends
And we just started, these haters wishing we end
Brown nose on these hoes, niggas fishing
she swallow with those, drop like it on her chin
Niggas left me for dead, I'm living again
Special official, they see my vision again

[Chorus - Meek Mill & Chris]
Know it's a party, we see the sparkles, they
Standing on couches, surround us, we blunting
We the globe, stop in your town, and run it
And you already know, cuff hoes tonight, we born to run it
we motherfucking paid hoe (Paid hoe)
And all that cream, blow paper like the haze hoe
a beach, I'm in the sun with my shades
After the club we take the bitch and lay low
Hey hoe (Hey hoe)
Hey hoe (Hey hoe)
the club we get the baddest bitch and lay low
Hey hoe (Hey hoe)
Hey hoe (Hey hoe)
After the club we take the bitch and lay low

[Verse 2 - Young
Maserati dipping, wrist cost me a
Neck cost a Bentley, I'm finna have a ticket
Got a fetish for Ferraris, and fucking bad
Smoke a nigga like I'm Marley all we know is lot of
The mine, Jordan number 9
I came in on these niggas like a young LeBron
In them bitches, hit them on the lot
Came in with your hoe, your ?
Young Chris, eat a dick, we the shit
We really balling you just about a Stephen Smith
I let my money do the talking, I just the fifth
I'm on my Metro, just call me if you a brick

[Verse 3 -
It's the with bacon, all these rappers be hating
Spit hella facts, hella facts, got me past
To my Canadian fans, they had me at the border
See the brighling, big Bent', I think them bastards is
Call me Hussain boy, we be off to the
And no negating Smith & Wesson leave you boy
We be up in the clubs, with two chains boy
Got it popping, niggas mad, they bitches all up in our
Got bottles Rosay, shots of Patron
All them chicks take to the dome
Hit here trying to follow me home
to his Impala, I'm gone