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 Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, out to Frankie Ocean
out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk
[Verse 1: Tyler the
Big eared bandit is all his manners
In a bag and wrappin' in seran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em in baskets with the rest of those
So when he "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an accident
Um, like my pad is the maxiest
My white and black like she's been mimickin' a panda
It's the skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in Canada
kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all against her Wilt
I never had a Reason, nigga I was Ableton
Not a Logic contradictin' dick head
Flyer than an moshin' in a tar pit
Semen scented cheetah tee
In that five panel, I'll repeat it for the season
Previous items in the
With the normal ass past like I cheated on my
It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Wang)
[Verse 2: Beats]
To have some type of knowledge that is one
But knowin' you own your opponent is a defeatin'
I'm to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is boneless
Smiles of cowards in lead showers, spouses in red blouses
who fled houses on Mustang horses and went joustin'
I'm on my Hood shit, robbing in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and pet, I'm stealin' your rings
Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers the fuckin' boot
And salute like the troop when you shoot you poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, the fuck off my stoop
And out my aid, Juice
3: Left Brain]
got the juice, I got the gin
Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in
Gang party at the hotel
I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the tell
You know Brain need a freak
I need a bitch to go down a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be if I ask where the hash at
Nigga I'm tryna smoke, get higher
where that Flocka Flame? Talking 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or shoot me
Cause if you don't salute me then my team do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the jack
The Mike G is in the cut with the black mac
Living like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to up
And if these haters acting up, throw 'em in the
my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much
But two bad bitches in front of me
[Verse 4: G]
What the fuck is
Often I leave you flossing and cause exes next to
Lost in translation, the dreams you
Got you diving for the plates like you home base
That's great, I'm alone dreaming of two on ones
With and Christina Milian, bring it on
And is in the closet organizing and hanging the tramp
Three lettermans that Ace has been him
No while we catching matinees, huh?
I'm getting blazed thinking 'bout days
I had the top off the GT3 like
One finger in the air, all's fair when pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
To the game like bitches to their wedding
And you don't even need to look cause we obscene
In the light, ride to my yellow diamond shining
Like the Batman logo Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em Mike G" I got 'em
One man squadron, I'm a problem
From Briggs I got and plans to
Pimp these Polish bitches into pop
Humanity kills, we all suffer from still
And if I said it then it is or it's gonna be
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
5: Domo Genesis]
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your mommy popped
With my other snobby bop, do I love her? not
your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Cock
I've runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal with the Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing songs to give 'em watts
what I talk, but still cooler than an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck in your wish list
Mad shit, mad dick 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'
clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big wave ya
Tyler got the mask like he held Jim 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, break it down, pounds, roll it up

Get me a Persian rug the center looks like Galaga
[Verse 6: Ocean]
a super car for a day
Drive around with your friends, smoke a gram of that
Bro, easy on the ounce, a lot for a day
But just enough for a week, my nigga 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 know the vibe's as fly as the
On the song, cut and you sample the feel
Headphone bleed, make this shit sound
Used to work the grill, fatburger and
Then I a mil and them psychics was liars
Now, how many fucking crystal can I buy and own
Humble old me had to flex for the
Down in Beach pumping iron and bone
Bumping off my cellular phone
Yeah, bumping oldies off my phone

Goddammit, this rapping is stupid and hard
Gotta do it over and and over again but here I go
[Verse 7: Jasper
Hey it's Jasper, not a rapper
Only on this beat to make my grow faster
Got a TV show, so I I'm an actor
Pot head, half baked, like Chappelle
Rollin' up a blunt that fire from hell
ignorant, still hit a bitch
Wolf Gang, nigga, so I still give a shit
Catch me in the back with on my lap
rips as I feel on that little bitch cat

Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar quick
Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my
Fuck it, Gang
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for is a pair of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' fires to whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' terrorist
Crushin' larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I spent a year Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to you what hysterics is
Spit to the meet the bottom of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow remind niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, line, might impair him since
I made it back to Fahrenheit, get dinero type
Feral, ill apparel, wearin' pack of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof paradise
La di da di, in here to fuck the party up
Raidin' fridges, tippin' over with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it rain hockey
And 60 day chips from fuckin' anonymous
Call him 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Loko, and a cobra clutch
bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a stick until the was numb
The of the potent punch
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drunk inside a stolen truck
Shittin' like his bust
Belly full of chicken and a of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm rollin' the novices
I'm roamin' the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is
Stay gold 'til the closed and the story end
mortem porkin' this rap shit and record it
To escort it to the again, lord of lips
Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, under 40 list
the gate, ensurin' the bass
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker sore in and face
Get at me with savages, have a pack of
Indian pack of niggas who give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, swagger is tacky
So see me you can't Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi
like lateral passin'
With that mothafuckin' gladiator manner of
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
back if your paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, that's all I got
From my bigger brother Frankie to my little Tac
that father figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding down 'Fax, Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same on lettermans and cotton socks
And grip tape...and my
Um, I was 15 when I first drew that
5 years later, for our yea we own it
I started an empire, I ain't even old
To a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
is for the niggers in the suburbs
And the white kids nigger friends who say the n-word
And the ones that got weird, fag, bitch, nerd
you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't right
Always try to turn our color into black and white
But they'll never change 'em, never 'em
Radical's my anthem, turn my fucking up
So instead of critiquing and bitching, being mad as
admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

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