Luyện nghe bài hát Maybach (Remix)

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Cool, I just it blue
Ooh, your ate me too
BlocBoy crackin'?
I had to do this

Ridin' in a mothafuckin'
My homie he out, he just did eight flat
Connect fronted some work, I still payed back
Every should die, on God I hate rats
Ridin' in a mothafuckin'
My homie he out, he just did eight flat
Connect fronted some work, I still ain't back
Every snitch should die, on God I hate

Cool, I just paint it
Ooh, bitch ate the crew
True, I bang it too
Do, I came to do
Ice, just splash in the Patek
I caught him in traffic on
I took his top off some Khalid shit
600 start up
No response, I act like I hear that
Told my bitch, bring a friend ya'll can that
Head shot, aim, where your beard at
New Glock, shoot you out your Air Max
AMIRI and Off White, I wear
Slippers on 'em blocks where you niggas at
Everywhere I go, my jewelry I wear
Same club you in, you end up dead at
I'm [?], where the meds at
I'm not tryna go the feds at
You jackin' my bro 'til I dead
Tell Don or Tee send a head tap
I bought a Rover with my first
And I ain't went to work yet
Catch an opp and leave his wet
How New York sound, I heard Flex
BlocBoy my Grape
Now I got the cops 'bout my tapes
Scrap you in the box, I'm gaining weight
up on the plug, I ain't tryna wait
New with the straps
Call my Fats, send another batch
She give me and get a cab
I'll come and get a bag
I ain't talkin' the dance, when me and Wiz did the dab
I left kids in her mouth, she had your and you mad
We got a crib in the South, and some whips with the cash
I got a in my bag, you play I'm unzippin' it fast

Ridin' in a Maybach
My homie he fresh out, he did eight flat
Connect some work, I still ain't payed back
Every should die, on God I hate rats
in a mothafuckin' Maybach
My homie he out he just did eight flat
Connect some work, I still ain't payed back
Every should die, on God I hate rats

BlocBoy, my
I fuck with the Rover, you know what I
It's season, my nigga
Big boy toys and shit like that, lights, you dig?
Feel like first-class in the

My homie he fresh out, he did eight flat
Every snitch should die, on God I rats