Luyện nghe bài hát Next Up

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

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

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

I hope you niggaz over standin', I stay
The next king of in the game, you ain't got to be
Your career last a week, that'll be
Fuck with me, the rap game'll need protective

I'm the thug that be surrounded with women
Gave the true religion before you found it in denim
the Wrath of Kane and you could not escape
The hip hop version of The Ring and you watched the tape

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Froze but never coldly with a hot hand
We stackin' cheese till the rubber bands pop
And I ain't when I'm in the pop stance
pounds like James Brown give 'em Hot Pants

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

Nine or Issey Miyaki
I got girl mine, meat strong like saki
I ain't Rocky but I keep her
Fuck around, I'll knock your fish out of socket

Your out of pocket, she under pimpery
She reckless eyeballin' watchin' my top in
On my Lamborghini with the scream
Fettucini, linguine, and a bowl of lean

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

Bitch, what the fuck you to that?
Now, damn, somebody need to beat Jacob ass that