Luyện nghe bài hát Presidential Flow

[Intro - Slim
Yeah, Thugger
Kyleon
C.
PJ,
We the in blue

Thug]
Yeah we stacking that green, naw
Big and that Outlaw team
up clean, blue with the screens
Niggas ain't seen, another this mean
Take it back to the North, with the Boss
wrecking decks, since back at the house
Haters disrespect, getting smacked in the
Niggas play hard, but they they soft
How we ride? With the
Fuck us, and you going to get killed
From the land of the trill, yeah we the Tex'
Don't bar plex, playing get checked
Get your hoe ass wrecked, to bring it to the Boss
I'll get ass done, it don't matter what it cost
We floss that blue, do it for the
Old Caddy, or the new slabs too
Paul Wall what it do? Who Jones?
Boys mad at us, we getting our shine on
Put it in face, put them in they place
Got to let them know, who the leaders of the
Hogg Outlawz, stacking that change
Jackers be aware, we packing that
Run your ass up, and I'ma mane
I ain't playing no games, aim for the brain

It's PJ, the rap
off, on these player hating suckers
I'm from the North, side of
Boys it over here, we on the grind
I up, it feel good
Ain't a damn changed, I'm still hood
Hogg, Outlawz
Fake niggas put your against the wall
Doing shows, hoes
out, on a glass set of 4's
What we ride? blue
we bang? That screw
Big piece, of ice
in Blue, nothing nice
I go off, I go
whatever, whatever, I don't bar

[Sir
Here come Daily, in that wide frame
Sliding down the block, with a fine mane
Times ain't changed, so these chickens clocking dollars
But I tell them what I'm about, hit the twat and
I'm a Hogg nigga, we all of that
One hitter quitter nigga, who don't them back
And they see me, they be like "Daily you wrong for that"
Because he don't speak, he just say move get back
my team, on the scene
On glass, the screens looking clean
On dro, the lean
Boss Outlawz, the number one team

Ward]
I'm C-Wiggy, my be jiggy
These mad at me, just because they girls dig me
I got so many clothes, I dress fresher than hoes
So shoes, I give Michael Jordan the blues
So furs, some his and some hers
I do what I does, because I what I do
I pop tags trunks on slabs
Peel back tops unhealed scabs
Throwing up the deuce, and giving niggas daps
If haters run up, then them punks can jabs
(C. you so ghetto) My nigga that's the truth
(And why's that in your car?) My nigga, that's the roof
(And why my keep ringing?) My nigga, that's them speakers
(Why you got on your tires?) My nigga, that's them sneakers
(And why your car look a serpent?) My nigga, that's that paint
(And it foggy inside?) My nigga, that's that stank
You see these major, labels me worse than the FEDS
Because my flows feed niggas jail house spreads
These hoes call me Simon because do what I says
Plus I got my long like Jamaican dreads
I'm Chris Wizzard, I go so
Stay from phonies, fakers, haters and frizzauds
Rappers mad at me because my is like a retard
But really I think, it's because I done cut up brizzoads

[Killa
I'm the MVP, the one
It's Outlaw Season, Kyleon
Badge on my neck, shining like the sun
Put the heat to the sheet, and a beat till it's done
I get paid when I rap, not a freestyle bro
I got a style, not a freestyle flow
Ten for the show, fifteen for the flow
And another fifteen if you to scope blow
I got bills, got drank, and a on the dro
That's why the diamond chain, look like a full of snow
In a body 'Lac, and I'm next to your hoe
With her in my lap, and she pecking me slow
Got the pop glowing, and the bumper kit hung
Ice pack on my wrist, like a shit's sprung
call lost and found, because my top missing
I made it disappear, just like a magician