Luyện nghe bài hát Presidential Flow

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

Thug]
Yeah we that green, naw mean?
Big and that Outlaw team
Pulling up clean, with the screens
Niggas ain't seen, another crew mean
Take it back to the North, back with the
Been wrecking decks, since at the house
Haters disrespect, getting smacked in the
Niggas play hard, but they acting they
How we With the steel
Fuck us, and you going to get killed
the land of the trill, yeah we represent the Tex'
Don't bar plex, come get checked
Get hoe ass wrecked, trying to bring it to the Boss
I'll get your ass done, it don't matter what it
We floss blue, do it for the crew
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 they face, put them in they
Got to let know, who the leaders of the race
Boss Hogg Outlawz, stacking change
Jackers be aware, we packing thing
Run ass up, and I'ma rat-a-tat mane
I ain't no games, I'ma aim for the brain

It's PJ, the rap
Going off, on these hating suckers
I'm from the North, of town
Boys about it here, we on the grind
I came up, it good
Ain't a damn changed, I'm still hood
Boss Hogg,
Fake niggas put your against the wall
Doing shows, pimping
out, on a glass set of 4's
What we ride? That
What we bang? That
Big piece, of ice
in Blue, nothing nice
I go off, I go
It's whatever, whatever, I bar

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

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

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