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 dutch this

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

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

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

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

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

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

That nigga mad savage, stationary Hall of
Niggaz came out
came home, now they bunked out
Money be longer triple life

'Til the sun burn out, that's my word, move it the burner out
Fidel way of thinkin', roll the Mac bent Ac-10
Most of my team, Percent check what the live 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 live prosperous
It only takes a lesson a day, just to analyze
One time in the respectable

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

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

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

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

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