Luyện nghe bài hát Lay Low

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

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

2 - Young Chris]
Maserati dipping, wrist me a chicken
Neck cost a Bentley, think I'm finna a ticket
Got a fetish for Ferraris, and fucking bad
Smoke a nigga like I'm Marley all we is lot of niggas
The summer's mine, Jordan 9
I came in on these niggas like a young LeBron
In front bitches, hit them on the lot
Came in with main hoe, your ?
Young 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, just call me if you a brick

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