Luyện nghe bài hát Oh Gee La

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

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

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

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

Give a about a hater

T-G-O-D, peep the game the floor seats
Here for my throne, put bitches in the nosebleeds
(T-G-O-D), married to the
with the ballers and fuck a prenup like the Kobes
(T-G-O-D), hoes
On the what, where, hows of a boss, see
Bitch I sluts on the whats and the whos
And the guts and the and how the body of a Porsche be
Now rock-a-bye bitches
out when I'm rocking my vicious
Ass-to-waist
Giuseppe shipped out in casio, rent on a
(Oo-la-la-la) is the way that we rock when we doing our
(Oo-la-la-la) is the first class high the Taylors bring
My circle,
Can't compare like a ain't I
Ain't I there, you hoes, I birth
None of you hoes have earned, none of you hoes learned
Vicariously through my shadows
Got them throwing more than a clouded out meadow
in a land called Lala, no Melo
Maserati on lips all yellow
Smoked out like a cigarillo
Now these hoes wanna hang, leave them like hello
(Ha ha ha ha ha) my lifeless corpse in the depth of the Earth
Forever stay a real bitch and only God
When the get to tempting me, I only hear God
And my help build me, so endear eyes
Lauryn forever love you, you'll forever fill hearts...
Hip Hop

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 getting cash I'm all about that paper

Give a fuck a hater

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

Getting high, weed up for e'ryone 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