Luyện nghe bài hát Link Up

[Intro: Producer & Mr WOT]
Beats
Fresh Money
Yo, Dublin, big up yourself, you dun
Obviously, it
Crud!
Maud!

1: J.B2]
Man back mash and bop with a different sauce
And splash cash, she bop with the edible, oh
Blue lights, see
I don't know what do
Baby cattin', uh,
Fishing-fishing, lost,

2: Russ]
Fuck-fuck yutes, they're irrelevant
Infected, they medicine
On sight 'ting, if you're from
One man up, way too
Slide the broom like Harry, uh
Sexed on your bae, no
Akhi, and yang, I been trappy
Fly lick the shots in the alley

[Verse 3: J.B2 &
Michael Jackson twist up neck
again, man pattern the neek
Arsenal, bro, Welbeck, gonna run
Big man on the neck touched;
Na, uh-uh, today can't
Give up my lead tongue,
'pon me, just jiggle-jiggle
Got the jeet and skeet surf on pum

[Verse 4:
Michael Jack, moonwalk in the
Pretty face and a whole of butt
Ching him up, tryna take out guts
Boom-boom, bang, got two in the
Like, bro, was you thinking?
it out, now the yutes sprinting
Let 'em it, let the pain sink in
Shoot, it off without blinking

5: Chuks]
I don't even wanna too much
All these know we put poles in dingers
I might get DS to his shank or get big bro to back his spinner
They don't see Loose in the cold, bro
Had them shook and turned sprinter
How many times have we run down
Got chased with shanks, some stupid
Got caught in the lack sleeping
How the fuck can I call this
They don't want this squeezing
in the room so your bitch ain't leaving
How many times did they lock up
I backed my shank, don't need me a
Wait 'til shh back on ends
Cah he does; I won't stop creeping

6: J.B2 & Mr WOT]
Who's-who's that
You ain't than us, you're shit
Kway-kway, bill up the and lit
She loving the sex, lick tit
Trust me,
When I bop her
nut it in Kelly
Finna ugh, no
When I beef lick that, get this teddy
Couldn't give

[Verse 7:
See the opps off so rapid
out my shank, then it's back in jackets
And the gyal over there so
Opp's gon' cuff they come like faggots
I done slept in the no blankets
Had to put all my stuff in
And put all my food in plastic
They bag all my clothes in packets
It's the I live, where you never see man complain
I ain't never seen YJ so gassed; made the grub disappear like Blaine
It's like done put out a diss track, then got straight on the rassclaat plane
It's got my head hurting so I gotta smoke the Mary Jane
Huh?
I shoulda better
I put holes in numerous tops so the pigs send letters
I got 'round 'ere with a sawed-off dots, they say I'm a

Man J.Sav really can't dipping
Mum's to go sew sweaters
Tryna get a top wetter
Opps doin' up love
I can't trust no female, you can call me
I got no feelings
So I'm out here hearts
I'm really tryna get target
Shank in head like I'm playing darts

Mr WOT]
Crud!