Luyện nghe bài hát Little Math You

Oh they don't nothin bout no hip hop
at 'em, look at 'em man
Little fucks
What the fuck you doin at your shows
Don't to 'em Math You, do your thing

1]
Little Math You, fifteen,
And it shit if it ain't the cursin version
With the sticker on the front to off his dad
Just that bitch to get off the rag, huh
Math You from the burbs gotta here it
It's like the only thing that puts the nerve in his
Go ahead and some ruckus for the hell of it
And yell it on the streets monotonous development
Your telling me that ain't for him right
How many motherfuckers get an invite?
Give him and let Math You here ya
Wait a half a year and he'll be in that mirror
And when he does, him on his royalty
Was peace he just played the piece of the royalties
Love is love if that's you give
I couldn't give a fuck where you grew up or where you live
It goes...

Oh you a now huh
You now, your too large to talk
forget I used to give you free refills motherfucker

2]
Forget snitchin motherfucker, stop
If you afraid of rats get the out the kitchen
They only come you cookin up a mess
And I'm supposed to be impressed by your vest?
That come back, gun touch act
Thug chapter bout as a bug zapper
Fuck that, add up all the stories in your
And subtract each one that isn't really from your
Take the and multiply
how many times in your life you thought that you was gonna die
Divide that sum with the
Of how many kids you had before you an album
Low ceiling for the of dope rappers
Most of dope dealers I know got broke ladders
Try to juggle both factors, shit I imagine that math
I'm a high school brat
But I what matters is that I gave it everything that I have
I'm a son and a dad
Trynna mathematics for the growth
I'm out, I got to hit the gym so we can film a

Aiyyo Sky {What
I was if you got the time
If you can go and look up and see if you can find me a gym {Yep}
let me smoke up in there {No problem}