Luyện nghe bài hát Real Talk

BMFBG
ATL

Skrrt,

ATL Jacob, ATL
Shout out to the opps,
Motherfuck the cops, run up all the
Wintertime, the top, flex on all the haters
I'm in love with chains, fuck a wedding ring
to spoil myself, I by myself everything
Rolex, Audemar, fuck a
I damn near lost it all in the dice
I kept my mouth closed the folks came
My name on in the streets, I'm talkin' propane
Section 8 ENT, gang gang
I bet a nigga never snatch my
That tripple crossin', watch out for them snatchers
All this money I got, I them kidnappers
I'm all about a sack, I'm talkin'
Pack touch down, Bay Packers
I'm 'bout to blow, like a dynamite
I'm doin' a hundred smashin', stop at that red light
Amigo Scooter, yeah I'm Zone 6 flexin'
I'm rich as hell, now mama ain't no more
Me and VL Deck juggin', ride in the old
OG Cali kush, all I smoke is
call me Jugg King 'cause I'm a plug catcher
You broke boy, you movin' but an ounce or better
hundred on a Louis sweater
Don't hit the door if it ain't five bricks or
Twenty pounds or better, I'm a big
dope boy, I can wrap the bales in the leather
No beat a double but a triple cross
I take a nigga off, I take another
Walk into my house, I got a pack
I'm a real hustler, I made myself a boss

No beat a double but a triple cross
cross me, you get knocked off (whoa whoa)
We put them dirty birds with the clean (whoa whoa)
We put 'em all together, call it (whoa whoa)
It's City Monday, 'bout to fly in town (yeah)
plug price too high, I'll shut him down
I get a mil, I'm moving underground

Pink diamonds in my teeth, pink in my cup
Pink molly in my system, I got pink pills, up?
Section 8, VL, that's my 'dem
up in a V12, you can't interfere
Space coupes, oops, I just made the world
If you bales in the field show your skills
Half a ticket for club Richard Mille
Already had and drip, now I got spill
Lil goons right with me 'til infity
When we up on the opps don't show no sympathy
I just fucked a up at the store, brrt, brrt
I just blowed a on your ho, brrt, brrt
draggin' on the floor, brrt, brrt
And we gettin' that bread by the load,
Pucci for this raw sushi
Evel Knievel she up the speed
She just in from overseas (word)
Once I expand her double C's (Chanel-y her)
Shop sprees, a hundred G's (oh God)
I got rich kids, my neck on (brrt brrt)
It's murder squad, they'll leave you in a (brrt)
(I don't nothin', I got amnesia)
I go so hard, let it take a breather (hold up)
I'm strappin' to my mommy seaters
Yeah, (brrt brrt)

No nothin' a double but a triple cross
cross me, you get knocked off (whoa whoa)
We put them dirty birds the clean chickens (whoa whoa)
We put 'em all together, call it (whoa whoa)
It's City Monday, 'bout to fly in town (yeah)
I'll probably a fifty soon as I touch down
(Your plug too high, I'll shut him down
I get a hundred mil, I'm underground)