Luyện nghe bài hát Polo Jeans

[Verse 1: Mac
I no fucks when I go nuts, cause I smoke dust, overdosed on the sofa then
Woke up from the coma pulled up in a Skoda smoked, back to bed
Never thought it would be such a loner, I tell my bitch I fucking own her
My neighbor's daughter got a dog, I'ma run it over, I'm a fucking soldier
So cold bro fuck pneumonia, all my bitches got love for Sosa, I just fuck
Roast up coaster then disappear in California
Strung out to the night, I'm chilling, everybody worried the might kill them
Via sight slipping, long lines of those white
I'm with the homies, bump Counting
Just went the half ounce of coke, blood pouring out my nose
Don't tell my mom I got a drug problem, I'm high
Leave size, when the sun go down I come alive
the guns go off in the summer time, cause the guns go off in the summer time

[Hook: Mac
This another rap song
and crazy, rich and famous doesn't last long
Spent all my on a broken dream
Went weed and liquor to the coke and lean
All I this mansion and this potpourri
But don't I look so handsome in these jeans?
Don't I so handsome in these Polo jeans?

[Verse 2: Earl
I blow a before the ink dries on the paper
And lately, I don't like shit, I been inside on the
wasted as the time that I'm spending high and sedated
I'm putting five in his face, because we don't buy into
As soon as it's flashing lights then it's kush to in the bushes
I do this shit out of spite cause niggas that overlooked me forever
I'm content with dark and stormier weather
the fucking cross on your rosary, we supposed to be better
But here's a toast to efforts, and don't approach me with nothing
That isn't money or breakfast, I'm close to choking a pussy,
Sweaty Man, you best had bet your bottom on him
With a couple niggas, sess like it's a lot options
15 on me for soda and
And who's the shit, a bag of chips, and a colon
I'm bitches trying to act like I owe 'em a picture
Rather these hoes to Vince who could show you a pistol
Listen, ST was the initials
Been rap game tighter than boa
Rolling stone like a Boulder raving, I'm so and going dumb as
my fucking home location to total strangers
No love in my heart for coppers, blood my lungs on the sink
Cashing out off the garments, the artist, what you think
Scowl black and the carriers could pick
And my flesh when I rest, tell 'em me adrift

Mac Miller]