Luyện nghe bài hát No Good

[B
Yooooo!
I Yooooo!
For all them industry haters that we couldn't do it...
This for my country street yeagas!
You know we

Smoke good, drink good, eat good,
Nickel bag of funk'll make a country sleep good
Yo' hood, my hood, tote heat, should
Folk round be up to no good

1]
[Skinny
My lookin like one of them days
I got a Franklin in my pocket, with this like a slave
And 20 cent to my name, tryna this crime pay
Money spent, Ben gone, me with the Hamil-ton
tint, same ol' song
Lincoln on a sack, with the
my song, Get drunk, get it crunk
Country-fried, pack a
Erything tight, 2 off in the trunk, bump
In a slump, got me pumped like a gauge
Turn the page, flip the
Hit the script jump, with the dump
In the hatchback, ass fat
Nickel bag of funk, a skunk in a rat trap
Sat back, hit it once, hit it twice, that
Mashed-out, Fleetwood, Cadillac, South
Woodgrain, Pure Grain, it in and let it out
like a bunny hunny, tell the shorty set it out
Get in where we fit in, we try our best to sell it out

2x]

2]
[B
We makes it hot for 'em, the flames
Who separate the real from
Yeaga be Stille's his
(Where you from?)
The Ville, LaGrange, to Mills and
Look how far done came!
Now it down

I my pockets fat
And my green
And my liquor
And my hens
With they panties
And a beat that keep my bouncin, bouncin, bouncin, bouncin

Check,
My mic vocals, is like
the billfold that my cheese is in
And a nickel to help me breathe again
I'm a place where blood spills and stains
with drug deals and gangs
Yeagas gold grills and thangs
up, fill ya tanks, spill ya drinks
It's Nappy, dawg,
Southern slang,
We slugs through ya brain
(Fuck you know, good)
And all my thugs, for the

2x]

2]
[Fish
A cat, with a pimp hat
Cup Gin-Jack
Dreaded out, up deuces
When I'm out
Slice it up and bet it out,
the prices up and set it out
Real niggaz doubt
Swerve to the calico, give me a deuce of
Make it 2 of that, pack a tip, a Optimo
the change, got to go
Flirt, tryna dirty
Georgia-bred, you can by my Hawk jersey
Hit me up if you get off
Then I dap out, so
Yo honey actin' mo'
Napped-out, momma me "What's all that 'bout?"
Say I got big plans, look slim but
Country boy with game
Never spittin' nothin'
Get paid to rap, a dap like ain't nothin' changed
My shit Nappy, split ends stay happy
Bad must've came from his pappy

[Hook until