Luyện nghe bài hát Older Gods

Aiyyo, I roll like a bat out of
Evil fly spittin' out of my grill
Before I hit the sky with colors
Juicy as a Sunkist, certain broads double dutch

carve it in they wrist, pales berry blazes
Straighten the crumbs on the stove clothes in my lady hair
yours the look gold God, the old tainted bald technique
Got these designer niggaz in they whips

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

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

Bombs made of clay, take place
We fucked in forty-eight shades walk up in your studio
Time slap your engineer, it's lighter fluid to that
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, 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 would take off his
status, gladdest
The rich rock and dollar vans grands

That mad savage, stationary Hall of Justice
Niggaz came out
came home, now they bunked out
Money be longer than 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
Most of my team, Five Percent check what the said
Rollin with Guess pedestrians yo
Holdin' my nuts, fuckin' thousand lesbians

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

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

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

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

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

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

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