Luyện nghe bài hát Let It Go

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

[Intro: Yams]
Trap Lord begins, now repent your sins
This on the motherfuckin' check-in
You I had to hang-glide through for this one
You know, we at the all-star right now
Eyes (swish) shootin' fade aways from half-court
(Elbow in the rim and all that)
(Y'all in the D-League doing, uhh, layup drills)
Ya me?

Kill a motherfucka the magnum 44
'Bout a jump snump, nigga, magnum on the
Body full of bullets when found him on the road
Lay a fucker down, spray it at him then
This that Fergie style and I be to let it go
or the tech, spray it at em then reload
This that Fergie and I be down to let it go
Semi or the tech, it at em then reload
(Fergie!)

1]
Ride Maybachs Ross (Ugh)
550 for a Tuarus
Praying for my niggas, lost
on things they [?]
Ridin' on a that floss
Multiplyin on a [?] buck
a 9 on anything we spark
Menage anything they
Pussy so good, more
Let me get in those
5-0 in the corner
He heard all them claps with a round of
Spit at yo' back and lung on the floor
Rat-a-tat-tat and you gon see the
[?] or pause
more sex, all in her jaws
Molly!

2]
I'm grippin the mac and you attack
Spit at your and you takin' a nap
No a' be pumpin', your body relaxed
You talk to me and that's how I react
One arm in the air I'm waving a cap
The nine is a and she makin' it clap
I'm pumpin' a fifth I'm givin' a dap
Be ready to scrap you talk to the Trap
(My condolences)
You are now to a boss
Lou bang' ridin in the Porsche
2-thou for the wheels, cost
White teeth, no floss
Young trap lord like
Two bitches in the crib, no
She rockin' the mic with her
I call that bitch Minaj
She pop pills no cough
When get real she spark
Givenchy my bitches
that light and you niggas see God
Gettin' in the foreign cars
Get the head from the foreign
Asta la vista,
ass niggas a see Allah

[Outro: Yams]
So like, "Fuckin' Problems, " platinum
(Bling, bling) number one album in the country
(Bling blow) sold out tours, what's
Trap
Let motherfuckers have it
Let know we ain't playing this year
The limb's been so relaxed, ever
It's lonely at the all this shrimp, no one to share it with
We ain't trippin'
Y'all walkin' 'round wrinkled silks, looking crazy
Pay your dry-cleaning bill and all (pay that, pay that)
Cause it's like it even a competition anymore