Luyện nghe bài hát Perfume

1]
Trap Lord in my belly, my nigga Really
Elijah smoking that smelly, is in the telly
Blind bitch Shelly, dick under her belly
I met that bitch at a fashion show, she was rocking
I was with Quasey Casey all that Versace
Might be in there sailing, smoking Beijing
Ten in my pocket, for no reason I got it
Fuck around and hit Sin City, that bitch to pop it
What's up with you and Purrp? I ain't all of that gossip
He the funk into my crew, you gotta ask Rocky about it
All I know is riding in them Maybachs
40. cal, we spray that, AK brratt you take nap
Oh, Lord, that Hood Pope - oh, Lord, that Trap
Why they call you Trap Lord? you a rap lord to my casket
I bowing to no time, Hood Pope on my gold shine
My niggas wanna tote nine, but we talk rhyme
I 'em hold up

All I know is that Trap Lord, that Hood
All I know is that Lord, but you're a rap Lord to my casket
All I is that fast Porsche smoking that good smoke
bitch who from Brazil, she want it on her culo
Riding 'round the city like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my shirt, nigga, no Pac and no Biggie
'round the city feeling like P.Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac and no

2]
No reply when you Lord, mama cry 'til her throat soar
Liechtenstein when I drunk [?] you was dying in war hall
Body left near the courtesy of the whole mob
Don't no fucking thing when I pull up in that Goyard
Shooked up from that toe star, ask questions like
Like can you feel your legs? I bet that nigga cannot walk
Persian bitch stack hard, sniff white 'till her nose soft
I fucked that with no rubber, cause that bitch be so raw
Puff-puff when the semi huff, really gonna pop
when you see me duck, niggas really want
Y'all punks can't see the God trap, Lord
And I click like Donkey when I hit this long
Better run when you see the mob, you be God
Hear the drum when my niggas march, you see Allah
You the son of a bitch nigga, you daddy a
You a bitch, bitch nigga, probably wearing bras