Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, out to everybody that worked on the album
You feel me, son? Yo, out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie
out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk
[Verse 1: the Creator]
Big eared is tossin' all his manners
In a bag and wrappin' in seran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em in baskets with the rest of those
So he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an accident
Um, like my pad is the maxiest
My bitch white and black like she's been a panda
the dark skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in Canada
Then kicking all out Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all against her Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' Logic contradictin' head
Flyer than an ostrich in a tar pit
Semen cheetah printed tee
In that 'Preme five panel, I'll it for the season
items in the present
With the normal ass past like I cheated on my
me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Beats]
To have some type of knowledge is one perception
But knowin' you own your opponent is a bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage 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 Robin shit, robbing in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and pet, I'm stealin' your rings
Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin'
And salute like the troop when you you gon' poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, stay the off my stoop
And out my Kool aid,
[Verse 3: Left
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 call a ho, and all the tell
You know Left Brain need a
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
Domo where that Flocka Flame? 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or 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 Mike G is in the cut the black mac
Living the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up
And if these acting up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
Free my nigga Earl, yo, I really ask for much
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 you stealing 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 closet organizing and hanging the
Three lettermans that Ace has making him
No strays while we catching matinees,
I'm getting blazed thinking those days
I had the top off the GT3 like
One in the air, all's fair when crime pays
My grand of things is to be attached
To the game like bitches to wedding rings
And you don't even need to look cause we obscene
In the light, ride slow to my yellow diamond
Like the logo over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em Mike G" I got 'em
One man squadron, nigga I'm a
From I got bars and plans to
Pimp these Polish bitches pop stars
Humanity kills, we all suffer from insanity
And if I said it then it is or it's be real
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
5: Domo Genesis]
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby popped
With my other bop, do I love her? prolly not
Know your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin'
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Cock
been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal the water Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing just to give 'em watts
Fire I talk, but still cooler than an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck shit in your list
Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches
On slick shit, your mistress on my hit list
And I'm lifted I'm stiff out of this bitch
Odd in mothafuckin' area
clots give me five feet '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
Gang so you know 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 where the center looks like
[Verse 6: Ocean]
Rent a car for a day
around with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze
Bro, on the ounce, that's a lot for a day
But just for a week, my nigga what can I say
I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I mean I'm
I'mma give you this wine, the runner just the grapes
My brother give it 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 sound
Used to work the grill, and fries
Then I made a mil and them was liars
Now, how many fucking crystal can I buy and own
old me had to flex for the fogs
Down in Beach pumping iron and bone
oldies off my cellular phone
Yeah, oldies off my cellular phone

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

Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar quick
Just for the bitches, little bit of in my pocket
it, Wolf Gang
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for contrast is a pair of
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' terrorist
Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a carrot stick
And me? I spent a year Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to you what hysterics is
Spit to the lips meet the of a barrel
So that sterile piss remind these niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might him since
I made it to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, pack of parasites
his own youth off the roof after paradise
La di da di, back in here to the party up
Raidin' fridges, tippin' over with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa it rain 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 and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a stick the hole was numb
The culprit of the potent
Scoldin' hot as scrotum in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drunk inside a stolen truck
like his colon bust
Belly of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm rollin' the novices
I'm through the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is
Stay gold the case closed and the story end
Post mortem this rap shit and record it
To escort it to the morgue again, of lips
Bored of this, the tippy top, best under 40 list
the gate, ensurin' the bass
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker sore in torso and
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 Black catchin' a
Back like passin'
With mothafuckin' gladiator manner of rappin'
As an addict I let Percocet and Xannies me
Fall back if your paddies is Maxi,
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, shit all I got
From my bigger Frankie to my little brother Tac
From father figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
down 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and cotton
And grip tape...and my
Um, I was 15 when I drew that donut
5 years later, for our yea we own it
I started an empire, I ain't even old
To drink a beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
is for the niggers in the suburbs
And the kids with nigger friends who say the n-word
And the that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was into jazz, cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't acting
Always try to turn our color into black and white
But they'll never 'em, never understand 'em
my anthem, turn my fucking amps up
So of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck
Just admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck,

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