Luyện nghe bài hát Oh No

Oh no, there go them Texas banging in a fo' do'
Top out the drop, crawling on 84's
Think of my slab, baby I don't think so
My heat under my seat, and I love you hoes
Living it a G, but still I gotta lay low
Five percent or ten, but still my screens gon
haters be in my mix, and these boppers be on my dick
Everytime I round the corner

[Paul
I'm from the land of opportunity, in God we
But in my mix, got me paranoid and disgust
I'm scoping out my mirrors, when my car's in park
It's after dark, and my slab is fresh to these sharks
Boys thinking I been drinking, so I'm off my
But I got seventeen surprises, inside of my coat
See me strut through the lot, on 22's plus
It's a must I all haters, eat my dust
Them boys, waiting trying to catch me slipping
I tripping, grain ain't the only thing that I'm gripping
Boys jacking with these tow trucks, thinking they
But take a to South Lee, and end up in a ditch
They got my purple eater once, the next day
I a Range Rover cash, and a new set of fronts
I've been on for months, I'm taking haters to lunch
Paul Wall and Trae, hit em with that one-two

When I flip in my
I'm fin to they back off, like I was legs
Sitting low and tinted on chrome, till I'm finished
I'm bout to diminish these haters, when my trunk waving
Blue over gray, side of my drop with six T.V.'s I'm
They hate that I'm shining, with the fifth wheel falling flying the block
But if one of these haters, jack me
Slugs gon be flying, out the
I click for no reason, season my slab is staining they brain
And I be known for getting in Texas, gripping on grain
Forever be pimping, 84 tipping all the South
Grilling all through my tint, with diamonds all in my mouth
They all in my mouth, looking when I burn right past em
Cause some of these broads be living shife, and up for the jacking
But not today, cause Trae gon be flipping on top of his
We guerillas I'm mobbing with, ain't no stopping me
When I'm in my fo' do' solo, the slab is bound to get
And if you trying to be competition, you bound to be getting lost

Make way for the team, when the fo' do' be round the corner
These are goners, cause I'ma drop the top when I wanna
I know these jackers, better think before they out and touch
Cause in of the car is the Excursion, full of thugs that'll punch
I know they to get me, but they don't know what I'm bringing
I pop the trunk and swing the block, jamming Slow Loud And Bangin'
Trae and Paul Wall on a mission, and ain't no stopping it
With my on my heat in my seat, and the other on grain

[Paul
Mo' money mo' problems mayn, the legend is
You better up on your toes, when you ride 22's
I'm strapped, everywhere I go I'm watching my back
Cause on my block, them don't give a damn if I rap
People see me being friendly, and think that I'm soft
But the truth is, my friend is a sawed off
These in my mix, got me losing composure
But if they take one step closer, it ain't gon be naw