Luyện nghe bài hát Older Gods

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

They carve it in they wrist, berry blazes
the crumbs left on the stove clothes in my lady hair
Plus yours the gold God, the old tainted bald technique
Got these vestibules designer in they whips

Jumpin' out seats, eighteen, Bronzeman Part II
We like Dorothy on ice
We in your hood we might circle, hats down low in the
lanes, change my tire, peel out

Real loud on the stage yo, I shitted on hood kid
I on your hood, got to your burner too late
I'm lookin' real good, draped out, shinin' like a fresh fifty cent
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 studio
Time slap your engineer, it's lighter fluid to style
me the matches now

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

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

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

'Til the sun burn out, that's my word, move it with the out
Fidel way of thinkin', roll with the Mac Ac-10
Most of my team, Five Percent what the live said
Rollin with Guess vests yo
my nuts, fuckin' thousand dollar lesbians

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

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

Let the shot spark, as his pit bull barks
Tire scars from skid marks from jams in school parks
Witness, his original statement
Even in protection programs no escapement

Gunned down, we in town, hit king seven crowns
Spent rounds him while he rhyme in the Zebra Lounge
Wounded, back in the eighty three summer
Up in three-oh-nine park, rhymin' off the beat

I stalk the city streets 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

Household name, assassin, bee
to the grain, that posses the Wu, trilogy
Quick to spot those that bite and blend
Those that got styles, they got twins

Don't stretch the small thing, are finnicky
skills, they master the art of mimicry
But I go line for on the whole page
Your life on the mic is old age