Luyện nghe bài hát Next Up

Gawddayum, I don't know what y'all been thinkin'
But I think this right here is about to dem damn haters down

I'm from the streets that niggaz walk slow, talk low
With chalk-o, mi casa be siete uno ocho
Brooklyn motherfucker, this
Pardon my Spanish and

Okay, I stay clever Mayweather with lay leather
Till face sever, one of the greatest ever
Beyond bells, my name's so demandin'
Shit, I got the that'll leave Dakota Fanning

I you niggaz over standin', I stay sucker-free
The next king of in the game, you got enough to be
Your career a week, that'll be luckily
with me, the rap game'll need protective custody

I'm the same thug be surrounded with women
Gave the game true religion before you found it in
Feel the of Kane and you could not escape
The hip hop version of The Ring and you just watched the

And keep eyes on the niggas in Ward
Triple black in the candy painted car is the of board
Me or my brother on pall with n'am
We trill, workin' the wheel, nigga?

I smother and split a bitch down to the
High pressure, if you don't your ass bendin'
I'm way past endin' in my series of
You flex with me tonight, playa, you dead by the

Bun Beater, the ever breathin' or deceased
From the South to Midwest, to the East
Go to any city nigga and bring my up
I bet I eat the best rapper got in the game up

Call a nigga up, him or chirp him
Make a meal out his ass and then burp him
fuck around, I'm not your lil' homey
I'm the of the Underground, so act like you know me

Homie, we big steppin', big
We givin' kids Smith & Wesson's lessons, you get left with a
Left with the Midwest, Texans
G. and Daddy Kane, the click Texas, pop you to

I put private on swift Jetsons, niggaz know what it is
When you see the cap and a slick Thessons
Till you strip to a movie clip from the Westerns
Shit the Uzi clip lift up your midsection

He will introduce you to the on the Glock fam
Give you metal like clothes from a rock band
Multiple holes, you get those on top, man
High roller dose some hoes on the cock

Froze but coldly rolls with a hot hand
We stackin' cheese till the bands pop scrams
And I ain't when I'm in the pop stance
Bank pounds James Brown give 'em Hot Pants

I make your get down and open it up
Put my dick up in they and go in they butt
I'm a young hot street flame, call me Sweet James
Or call me Sir Jones, two hundred cologne

Nine or Issey Miyaki
I got your girl mine, meat strong saki
I Rocky but I keep her rockin'
Fuck around, knock your tuna fish out of socket

Your bitch out of pocket, she under
She reckless eyeballin' my top fall in
On my with the quick scream
Fettucini, linguine, shrimp and a bowl of

you know about gettin' cross country?
Nigga, piece big but your diamond look monkey
You need to take that back
That ain't no diamonds what the fuck you done to that

Bitch, what the you done to that?
Now, damn, somebody need to beat ass over that