Luyện nghe bài hát Oh Gee La

Look I can roll up some more weed
Or 22 more bottles of Don P
My presidential Rolex shining, on Gs
The clothes I got on are designers from overseas
I pulled up getting high, told the valet to my keys
out, walk in that motherfucker, bought everything that I seen
Niggas hating, bitches wishing they can get in position for some
Taylor Gang motherfucker, don't deal no shape shift
Only real motherfuckers come up in my
I keep it way too real to with your fake shit
the real right here, roll one up and face it

Getting high, rolling weed up for to know me

In the club, popping bottles, blowing by the O-Z

And you I'm getting cash cause I'm all about that paper

a fuck about a hater

T-G-O-D, the game from the floor seats
Here for my throne, put them bitches in the
(T-G-O-D), to the money
Fornicating with the ballers and fuck a prenup like the
(T-G-O-D), hoes
On the what, where, hows of a boss, see
I school sluts on the whats and the whos
And the guts and the shoes and how the body of a be
Now rock-a-bye bitches
Lights out I'm rocking my vicious
Ass-to-waist
shipped out in casio, rent on a fascio
(Oo-la-la-la) is the way that we rock when we our thing
(Oo-la-la-la) is the first class that the Taylors bring
My circle,
Can't like a ain't I care
Ain't I there, you hoes, I birth
None of you hoes have earned, of you hoes have learned
living through my shadows
Got them throwing shade than a clouded out meadow
Living in a called Lala, no Melo
Maserati on lips all yellow
Smoked out interior like a
Now hoes wanna hang, leave them hanging like hello
(Ha ha ha ha ha) until my corpse in the depth of the Earth
Forever stay a real bitch and fear God
When the Devil get to tempting me, I only God
And my struggles help build me, so eyes
we'll forever love you, you'll forever fill hearts...
Hip Hop

Getting high, rolling weed up for to know me

In the club, bottles, blowing weed by the O-Z

And you know I'm getting cause I'm all about that paper

a fuck about a hater

Paper, paper, paper, I'm so fucking
Burning dope, ashes on the calculator
Big wads in my pockets, money barely
I'm so sincere riding in a Belly
Hit the booty club, Sapphire gin
Juicy J don't fuck ratchet hoes, only 10s

Getting high, rolling weed up for e'ryone to me

In the club, bottles, blowing weed by the O-Z

And you know I'm cash cause I'm all about that paper