Luyện nghe bài hát Lay Low

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

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

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

[Verse 3 -
the makie with bacon, all these rappers be hating
Spit hella facts, hella facts, got me past
To my Canadian fans, had me stuck 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, bitches all up in our faces
Got them bottles Rosay, of Patron
All them chicks shots to the dome
Hit right trying to follow me home
to his Impala, I'm gone