Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, out to everybody that worked on the album
You feel me, Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left
Shouts out to Domyon, out to Frankie Ocean
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, out to L-Boy Awk
[Verse 1: Tyler the
Big eared bandit is tossin' all his
In a bag and them 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, flowin' like my pad is the
My bitch white and black like she's been a panda
It's the skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in Canada
Then kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did
Put her in the chamber all against her Chamberlain
I had a Reason, nigga I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' contradictin' dick head
Flyer than an ostrich in a tar pit
Semen scented cheetah tee
In that 'Preme five panel, repeat it for the season
Previous items in the
With the normal ass past like I cheated on my
me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To have some type of knowledge is one perception
But knowin' you own your opponent is a defeatin'
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage is boneless
of cowards in lead showers, dead spouses in red blouses
Children who fled houses on horses and went joustin'
I'm on my Robin Hood shit, in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and pet, I'm stealin' your rings
Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers the fuckin' boot
And like the troop when you shoot you gon' poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, the fuck 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 Brain need a
I need a to go down like a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be surprised if I ask the hash at
I'm tryna smoke, bitch get higher
Domo where that Flocka Flame? Talking a lighter
Still bang me or just shoot me
Cause if you don't salute me my team will do the shooting
my nigga Ace will pull the black jack
The king G is in the cut with the black mac
Living the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up
And if these haters acting up, throw 'em in the
Free my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for
But two bad bitches in of me cunnilingus
[Verse 4: G]
What the fuck is
Often I leave you flossing and exes next to coffins
Lost in translation, the dreams you
Got you diving for the plates like you stealing base
That's great, I'm home dreaming of two on ones
With and Christina Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the organizing and hanging the tramp
Three that Ace has been making him
No strays while we catching matinees,
I'm getting blazed thinking those days
I had the top off the GT3 like
One finger in the air, all's when crime pays
My grand scheme of is to be attached
To the game like bitches to their rings
And you don't even to look cause we gleam obscene
In the light, slow to my yellow diamond shining
Like the logo 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 bars and to
these Polish bitches into pop stars
Humanity kills, we all from insanity still
And if I said it then it is or gonna 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 snobby bop, do I love prolly not
your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Cock
I've been runnin' since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal the water Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing songs just to 'em watts
Fire what I talk, but still than an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck in your wish list
Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches
On some slick shit, your on my hit list
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 your team, ho nigga wassup
Wolf so you know 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 Persian rug the center looks like Galaga
6: Frank Ocean]
Rent a car for a day
Drive with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze
Bro, on the ounce, that's 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 you this wine, the runner just brought the grapes
My give it some time, Morris, and Day
Course you the vibe's as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you sample the feel
Headphone bleed, make this sound real
to work the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and psychics was liars
Now, how fucking crystal balls can I buy and own
old me had to flex for the fogs
Down in Beach pumping iron and bone
Bumping oldies off my cellular
Yeah, bumping oldies off my cellular

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

Hah, nigga came with a 9 bar real quick
Just for the bitches, bit of money in my pocket
Fuck it, Gang
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for contrast is a pair of
sarapin, settin' fires to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' terrorist
Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot
And me? I just a year Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to show you hysterics is
Spit to the lips the bottom of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow remind these where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might him since
I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, pack of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof after
La di da di, in here to fuck the party up
fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from fuckin' awesome
him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra clutch
Vocals bold and rough, a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a stick until the hole was
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 rollin' over the
I'm through the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is
gold 'til the case closed and the story end
Post mortem 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
Stormin' the gate, the bass
Scorchin' ladies 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 of fact, your swagger is tacky
So see me you can't like Crunchy Black catchin' a
Back lateral passin'
With mothafuckin' gladiator manner of rappin'
As an I let Percocet and Xannies relax me
Fall back if your paddies is Maxi,
[Verse 9: Tyler the
OF, shit all I got
From my bigger brother Frankie to my little Tac
From that father figure to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding down 'Fax, Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and socks
And grip tape...and my
Um, I was 15 when I drew that donut
5 years later, for our yea we own it
I an empire, I ain't even old enough
To drink a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off soda pop
This is for the in the suburbs
And the white kids with nigger who say the n-word
And the that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven
say we ain't acting right
Always try to turn our fucking color into and white
But they'll never change 'em, never 'em
Radical's my anthem, my fucking amps up
So instead of and bitching, being mad as fuck
Just admit, not are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

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