Luyện nghe bài hát Older Gods

Aiyyo, I roll like a bat out of
Evil acapell's fly spittin' out of my
I hit the sky with springtime colors
Juicy as a Sunkist, certain broads dutch this

They carve it in they wrist, pales blazes
Straighten the crumbs left on the clothes in my lady hair
Plus yours the look gold God, the old tainted technique
Got these vestibules niggaz in they whips

Jumpin' out they seats, eighteen, Bronzeman II
We Dorothy Hamill on ice
We in hood we might circle, hats down low in the Range
Switch lanes, my tire, peel out

Real loud on the stage yo, I on your hood kid
I on your hood, got to your burner too late
I'm lookin' real good, draped out, shinin' a fresh fifty cent piece
girlfriend, c'mere
Oh shit, you my niece, the gourmet pocket twenty

made of clay, Sexcapades take place
We fucked in forty-eight shades might walk up in your
Time slap your engineer, it's lighter fluid to style
Hand me the now

Aiyyo Roley on the wrist, now what's this
Niggaz bless this, and a half, Bally banana twist
E shakes, puffin' on lye, feedin' the seed's
Pullin' out, old dirty to rob gates

Major wake up, the kid telltales, make a nigga head up
break, the nigga would take off his time
Honolulu status,
The rich rock cabbage and dollar grands

That mad savage, stationary Hall of Justice
came clumped out
Just came home, now they out
Money be than triple life

'Til the sun burn out, that's my word, it with the burner out
Fidel way of thinkin', with the Mac bent Ac-10
of my team, Five Percent check what the live said
Rollin Guess vests pedestrians yo
Holdin' my nuts, fuckin' dollar lesbians

Yo, the Older God put me on and had to this
Maintain Three-Sixty Lord live
It only takes a a day, just to analyze life
One time in the mind

Yo, the Older God put me on and had to rock
Maintain Three-Sixty live prosperous
It only takes a a day, just to analyze life
One time in the respectable

Let the spark, soon as his pit bull barks
Tire from skid marks leaves from jams in school parks
Witness, forget his statement
Even in protection there's no escapement

Gunned down, we in town, hit king seven crowns
Spent rounds catch him he rhyme in the Zebra Lounge
Wounded, in the eighty three summer heat
Up in park, rhymin' off the drummer's beat

I stalk the city demonstratin' mic wrecks
All lookin' stank, I ain't playin' wit a full
And as they nervously stare, I know scared
They saw the coming of Wu, the neon in Times

name, assassin, killa bee
Mill to the grain, posses the Wu, trilogy
Quick to spot those that bite camouflage and
Those that got styles, they got identical

Don't stretch the small thing, are finnicky
Without skills, they master the art of
But I go line for on the whole page
Your unspotted on the mic is old age