Luyện nghe bài hát Lay Low

[Verse 1 - Meek
Bought a brand new loft, thousand a month
Bitch my sour is special, dollars a blunt
Only if it's 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 faggot, automatic kicking like soccer
Bottles popping it's popping, twenty bitches us
I just slide her the numbers, so if she hit me I her
I canary the pinky, hit her right like
Got the club looking cloudy, for the love of the
In a 600 Benz, a bitches they friends
And we just getting started, these wishing we end
Brown nose on these hoes, niggas again
Notice she swallow those, drop like it on her chin
left me for dead, bitch I'm living again
Special official, they see my vision again

[Chorus - Meek & Young Chris]
it's a party, we see the sparkles, they coming
Standing on couches, bitches surround us, we
We the globe, stop in your town, and run it
And you already know, cuff them hoes tonight, we to run it
Because we motherfucking hoe (Paid hoe)
And all that cream, blow that paper like the 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 we take the baddest bitch and lay low

[Verse 2 - Chris]
Maserati dipping, wrist cost me a
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, number 9
I came in balling on niggas like a young LeBron
In front bitches, hit them on the lot
Came in with your hoe, your ?
It's Young Chris, eat a dick, we the
We really balling you talking about a Stephen Smith
I let my money do the talking, I plead the fifth
I'm on my Metro, just call me if you need a

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