Luyện nghe bài hát Perfume

1]
Trap Lord in my belly, my nigga Really
Elijah smoking that smelly, is in the telly
bitch name Shelly, dick under her belly
I met that at a fashion show, she was rocking Margiela
I was with Quasey Casey rocking all that
Might be in there sailing, smoking Beijing
Ten stacks in my pocket, for no I got it
Fuck and hit Sin City, tell that bitch to pop it
What's up you and Purrp? I ain't into all of that gossip
He brought the funk into my crew, you 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 Pope - oh, Lord, that Trap Lord
Why they call you Lord? Cause you a rap lord to my casket
I bowing to no time, Hood Pope on my gold shine
My dirty niggas tote nine, but we talk rhyme
I 'em hold up

All I is that Trap Lord, that Hood Pope
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
Model bitch who from Brazil, she it on her culo
'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac and no
Riding 'round the feeling like P.Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac and no

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