Luyện nghe bài hát Low

My low (my beat low)
My bass low (my low)
I ride low (I low)
She go low (she go low)
My low (my beat low)
My low (my bass low)
I low (I ride low)
Used to tell her you said, bro

Me, J, get too many hoes
Me, J, get too many flows
Clique ballin' out the '98 Lakers
up in a million dollar car and violate it
Fly to Cancun on Sunday, in France on Monday
Faded at the fashion show, tryna grab a off the runway
I ain't pack no clothes, nothin' but rubbers in my suitcase
Laid her on the mic, menage with my and her roommate
And if I tip a bitch, we fuckin', it ain't no
It cost to be the boss, my n-gga you way your budget
Who you playin' with lil homie? Your life cost me nothin'
Juicy J so presidential, don't make me press button

My beat low (my low)
My low (my bass low)
I low (I ride low)
She go low (she go low)
My beat low (my low)
My low (my bass low)
I low (I ride low)
She go low (she go low)
Low

I get a brick, you I get it for the, low
Her ass so fat, I told her it down, low
I do a verse, you my prices ain't, low
Lil, know I like my kisses down low

Me, Nicki M, I got too many
Pull up with V twins in my engine
All ice all around me like a penguin
I talkin' bowlin' but I'm with the kingpin
I pull up with a n-gga a real big dick
That's just so good, man a can't quit
I ain't ever have a that a bitch ain't rip
I'm fly day but a bitch ain't trippin'
You be on bull, you be on Scott Pippen
I be walkin', I'm limpin'
C's on my bag so think I'm crippin'
Every n-gga in here wanna know I'm drinkin'
Myx Moscato,
I keep a pillow with me because I'm tired of niggas
I'm with some flawless girls, they're pretty and thick
it open quick, put that pussy on his lips, bitch

My beat low (my low)
My bass low (my low)
I low (I ride low)
She go low (she go low)
My beat low (my low)
My bass low (my low)
I ride low (I low)
She go low (she go low)
Low

I get a brick, you I get it for the, low
Her ass so fat, I told her it down, low
I do a verse, you my prices ain't, low
Lil' momma I like my kisses down low

I'm Lil Bibby, Mr.
Mr.
Mr.
Young rich n-gga used to trap by the store, now taxed for the
Tell a rap n-igga, "I'm not you"
frontin', boy, y'all not criminals
At the top, man talkin' 'bout killin' you
Got two 9's but they're not
never trait on my squad, nigga
Ball hard, nigga, I'm Jordan, you Lebron, nigga
In other words, you a fraud,
I'll pull your card,
I'm a boss, I'm runnin' shit
Call me Tut, all this gold on, I be blinged up
If try to rob, got the things tucked, you ain't seen nothin'
At the club, their jaws when I pull up in that Benz
30 Deep, 'bout 20 heats, stomp him out with my Timbs
I'm in here with my feet up
I told y'all that I'm to heat up
Man it's time to kill all this stuff
Pull the beat up, me eat up

My beat low (my low)
My bass low (my low)
I ride low (I low)
She go low (she go low)
My low (she go low)
My low (she go low)
I low (she go low)
She go low (she go low)
Low (yeah)

I get a brick, you I get it for the, low
Her ass so fat, I her drop it down, low
I do a verse, you my prices ain't, low
momma know I like my kisses down low