Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to everybody worked on the album
You feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty
Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Brizzle
out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie Ocean
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to Awk
[Verse 1: the Creator]
Big eared bandit is all his manners
In a bag and wrappin' them in seran bandages
Tossin' 'em in baskets with the of those sandwiches
So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an
Um, flowin' my pad is the maxiest
My bitch white and black she's been mimickin' a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' in Canada
Then kicking all out like Mr. did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all against her Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, nigga I was just
Not a Logic contradictin' dick head
Flyer than an moshin' in a tar pit
Semen cheetah printed tee
In that 'Preme five panel, I'll repeat it for the
Previous items in the
the normal ass past like I cheated on my team
It's me (Tried to get nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To have some type of knowledge is one perception
But knowin' you own opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartridge is boneless
Smiles of cowards in lead showers, spouses in red blouses
Children who houses on Mustang horses and went joustin'
I'm on my Robin Hood shit, in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm stealin' your
diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot
And salute the troop when you shoot you gon' poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, stay the off my stoop
And out my Kool aid,
3: Left Brain]
got the juice, I got the gin
Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in
Wolf party at the hotel
I call a ho, you a ho, and all the hoes tell
You know Left need a freak
I need a to go down like a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be if I ask where the hash at
Nigga I'm smoke, bitch get higher
where that Flocka Flame? Talking 'bout a lighter
Still bang me or just shoot me
if you don't salute me then my team will do the shooting
Yeah my Ace will pull the black jack
The king G is in the cut with the black mac
Living like the Mafia, bitch, get to slacking up
And if these acting up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
Free my Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much
But two bad bitches in front of me
4: Mike G]
What the fuck is
Often I leave you flossing and exes next to coffins
in translation, the dreams you chase
Got you diving for the plates like you home base
That's great, I'm home alone dreaming of two on
With and Christina Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the organizing and hanging the tramp
lettermans that Ace has been making him
No strays while we catching matinees,
I'm getting thinking 'bout those days
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, all's when crime pays
My scheme of things is to be attached
To the game like bitches to their wedding
And you don't even need to look cause we obscene
In the light, ride slow to my yellow diamond
Like the Batman over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em G" then I got 'em
One man squadron, nigga I'm a
From Briggs I got and plans to
Pimp these bitches into pop stars
Humanity kills, we all suffer insanity still
And if I said it then it is or it's be real
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
[Verse 5: Genesis]
It's Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy popped
With my other bop, do I love her? prolly not
your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Cock
been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
Big was a big deal with the water Glocks
Now I'm all grown, songs just to give 'em watts
Fire I talk, but still cooler than an Otter Pop
Op Dom shit in your wish list
Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches
On some slick shit, your mistress on my hit
And I'm lifted I'm stiff out of this bitch
Odd in your mothafuckin'
Blood clots give me five 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big wave ya
Tyler got the mask he held Jim Carrey up
And fuck team, ho nigga wassup
Wolf Gang so you we not giving no fucks
You know me dog, I'm a in the cut so I can
Cut it short, it down, couple pounds, roll it up

Get me a rug where the center looks like Galaga
[Verse 6: Ocean]
a super car for a day
Drive around with your friends, a gram of that haze
Bro, on the ounce, that's a lot for a day
But enough for a week, my nigga what can I say
I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I I'm straight
I'mma give you this wine, the just brought the grapes
My brother it some time, Morris, and Day
Course you the vibe's as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you could the feel
Headphone bleed, make this shit real
Used to work the grill, and fries
Then I made a mil and them psychics was
Now, how many fucking balls can I buy and own
Humble old me had to flex for the
Down in Muscle Beach pumping iron and
Bumping oldies off my phone
Yeah, bumping oldies off my phone

Goddammit, rapping is stupid and it's hard
Gotta do it over and and over again but here I go
7: Jasper Dolphin]
Hey it's Jasper, not even a
on this beat to make my racks grow faster
Got a TV show, so I guess I'm an
Pot head, half baked, lookin' like
Rollin' up a with that fire from hell
Still ignorant, hit a bitch
Wolf Gang, nigga, so I still don't a shit
Catch me in the with Miley on my lap
Bong as I feel on that little bitch cat

Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar quick
Just for the bitches, bit of money in my pocket
it, Wolf Gang
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for is a pair of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' All-American
Crushin' larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I just spent a year
And lost a little to show you what hysterics is
Spit to the lips meet the of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow remind these where embarrassed is
Narrow, line, might impair him since
I it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, wearin' pack of
his own youth off the roof after paradise
La di da di, in here to fuck the party up
fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it rain pucks
And 60 day chips fuckin' awesome anonymous
Call him bloated he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Loko, and a cobra clutch
Vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a until the hole was numb
The culprit of the punch
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' drunk inside a truck
like his colon bust
Belly full of chicken and a of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm over the novices
I'm through the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is
Stay gold 'til the case and the story end
Post mortem this rap shit and record it
To it to the morgue again, lord of lips
Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40
Stormin' the gate, the bass
Scorchin' motherfucker sore in torso and face
Get at me with savages, have a of Apache
Indian pack of niggas who don't a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, swagger is tacky
So see me you can't like Crunchy catchin' a taxi
Back like lateral
With mothafuckin' gladiator manner of rappin'
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
Fall if your paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, that's all I got
From my bigger brother Frankie to my brother Tac
From that father figure Clancy to that skatey nigga
Shredding 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and socks
And tape...and my shoes
Um, I was 15 I first drew that donut
5 later, for our label yea we own it
I started an empire, I ain't old enough
To a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
This is for the niggers in the
And the white with nigger friends who say the n-word
And the that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't right
Always try to turn our fucking into black and white
But they'll never 'em, never understand 'em
Radical's my anthem, my fucking amps up
So instead of critiquing and bitching, mad as fuck
admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

OFM, banging on FM
Gnaw, 2011, yeah, Golf