Luyện nghe bài hát Little Math You

Oh don't know nothin bout no hip hop
Look at 'em, at 'em man
Little fucks
the fuck you doin at your shows homie?
Don't listen to 'em Math You, do thing

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

Oh you a now huh
You now, your too large to talk
Don't forget I used to give you free motherfucker

2]
Forget motherfucker, stop bitchin
If you afraid of rats get the fuck out the
They come when you cookin up a mess
And I'm to be impressed by your bulletproof vest?
come back, gun packin touch act
Thug chapter entertaining as a bug zapper
Fuck that, add up all the stories in raps
And subtract each one that isn't really from your
the remainder and multiply
With how many times in life you thought that you was gonna die
Divide that sum with the
Of how many you had before you dropped an album
Low ceiling for the masses of dope
Most of dope dealers I know got broke ladders
Try to juggle both factors, I can't imagine that math
I'm just a high brat
But I know what matters is that I gave it that I have
I'm a son and a dad
Trynna learn mathematics for the
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 online and look up and see if you can me a gym {Yep}
That'll let me smoke up in {No problem}