Luyện nghe bài hát Older Gods

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

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

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

Real 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, like a fresh fifty cent piece
girlfriend, c'mere
Oh shit, you my man's niece, the pocket twenty

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

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

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

nigga mad savage, stationary Hall of Justice
Niggaz came out
Just home, now they bunked out
be longer 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 bent
of my team, Five Percent check what the live said
Rollin with Guess pedestrians yo
Holdin' my nuts, fuckin' thousand dollar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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