Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to that worked on the album
You feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty
out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Ocean
out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk
[Verse 1: the Creator]
Big eared bandit is all his manners
In a bag and them in seran wrap 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 like she's been mimickin' a
It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' in Canada
kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all her Wilt Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, nigga I was just
Not a Logic 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 like I cheated on my team
It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To have type of knowledge that is one perception
But knowin' you own opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is
Smiles of in lead showers, dead spouses in red blouses
Children who houses on Mustang horses and went joustin'
I'm on my Hood shit, robbing in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm your rings
Coke diamonds and your Vet, lace the fuckin' boot
And salute like the troop when you you gon' poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my
And out my Kool aid,
[Verse 3: Left
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 hoes
You know Left need a freak
I need a bitch to go down like a Nitty
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be if I ask where the hash at
Nigga I'm smoke, bitch get higher
Domo where that Flocka Flame? 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or just me
Cause if you don't salute me then my will do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the jack
The Mike G is in the cut with 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 don't really ask for
But two bad in front of me cunnilingus
4: Mike G]
What the is caution?
Often I leave you flossing and cause exes to coffins
in translation, the dreams you chase
Got you diving for the plates like you stealing home
great, I'm home alone dreaming of two on ones
With Rihanna and Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the closet organizing and hanging the
Three lettermans that Ace has been him
No strays while we matinees, huh?
I'm getting blazed 'bout those days
I had the top off the GT3 like
One in the air, all's fair when crime pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
To the game like bitches to their rings
And you don't even to look cause we gleam obscene
In the light, ride to my yellow diamond shining
Like the Batman over 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 bars and to
Pimp Polish bitches into pop stars
kills, we all suffer 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: Domo
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby popped
With my snobby 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, Macaulay Cock
I've been runnin' blocks since a tot
Big wheel was a big deal with the Glocks
Now I'm all grown, songs just to give 'em watts
Fire what I talk, but still cooler an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck shit in wish list
Mad sick shit, mad dick for bitches
On some shit, your mistress on my hit list
And I'm 'til I'm stiff out of this bitch
Odd in your area
clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big wave ya
Tyler got the mask like he Jim Carrey up
And fuck your team, ho 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, couple pounds, it up

Get me a Persian rug where the looks like Galaga
[Verse 6: Frank
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 just enough for a week, my 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 brought the
My brother give it time, Morris, and Day
Course you know the as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you could the feel
Headphone bleed, make shit sound real
to work the grill, fatburger 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 Muscle Beach pumping iron and
oldies off my cellular phone
Yeah, bumping oldies off my cellular

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

Hah, came through with a 9 bar real quick
for the bitches, little bit of money in my pocket
Fuck it, Wolf
8: Earl Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for contrast is a of lips
sarapin, settin' fires to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) All-American terrorist
Crushin' larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I just a year Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to show you what is
to the lips meet the bottom of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow remind niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might him since
I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get type
Feral, ill apparel, wearin' pack of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof paradise
La di da di, back in here to the party up
fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from awesome anonymous
Call him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow
Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a clutch
bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and it with a stick until the hole was numb
The culprit of the potent
Scoldin' hot as scrotum in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' drunk inside a stolen
Shittin' like his bust
Belly full of and a fifth of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm over the novices
I'm roamin' through the forest and 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, lord of
of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list
Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the
Scorchin' ladies sore in torso and face
Get at me with savages, have a pack of
Indian of niggas who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, your is tacky
So see me you can't like Black catchin' a taxi
Back like lateral
With mothafuckin' gladiator manner of rappin'
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
back if your paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, shit all I got
my bigger brother Frankie to my little brother Tac
From that father figure Clancy to that nigga Naks
down 'Fax, Wolf 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 later, for our label yea we own it
I started an empire, I ain't old enough
To drink a beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
is for the niggers in the suburbs
And the white with nigger friends who say the n-word
And the ones 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 color black and white
But they'll never change 'em, understand 'em
Radical's my anthem, turn my amps up
So instead of and bitching, being mad as fuck
Just admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck,

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