Luyện nghe bài hát Red Nation

Throw your Cincinnati hats in the sky
Nigga, ask why
Red laces in and out of them Air Max

I, on the moon, flow hotter than June
Any nigga want drama I kick up a sand
Peace to my man Tune for giving his man
Now we hitting switches to the Break, Cancun

Get it? Naw, it, Suwo, I live it
Made the B more famous than a Red Sox fitted
But that was suicide, I don't live in Judah's
Half of these rappers trapping when I was chopping the do or die

Suge had me in, I Puffy like Zab Judah eye
Dre called, my baby mama, "Won't you decide?"
She chose Doc, day I poured you aside
Like Aftermath for life and all I do is ride

I turn on him I kill Satan
And stick my red flag in the
It's red

Now the fuck up
Everyday's a gamble motherfucker tough
And we going to fuck the world that bitch bust nuts
I tell you what's good but I can tell you what's what

And that's B's up, ho's
Looking in the mirror, I'm to be found
Blood, I'm a dog, call me a
Throwing in the air, leave blood on the ground

Niggas'll they soul to be Drake or J. Cole
Live and die for this shit, word to Tupac Shakur's
One Blood, plural, nigga I'm Euros
Ferrari got a ice cream paint job,

I'm up out the hood, where they pull them on you like
Come up out your hood, it ain't never all
We roll up in backwoods, nigga get to acting
Get in the back woods

Los Angeles, of the scandalous
Pimp, and gamblers
98 on Christmas
Nigga, we cannabis

Swisher sweet, it?
I told her I'm Charles
The bitch fainted, her panties down, stained it
That's my Chi-lingo, I'm bi-lingual

Ball by myself, nigga ocho,
Dancing With the Stars, and fast cars
And everybody out here, word to God

Now Blood the up
Everyday's a gamble tough luck
And we going to fuck the world 'til that bitch bust
I tell you what's good but I can tell you what's what

And that's B's up, down
Looking in the mirror, I'm nowhere to be
Blood, I'm a dog, call me a hound
Throwing Blood in the air, leave on the ground

Russia got a red flag, U.S. got red
Last Train to Paris, around the in these red Nikes
Che of the New Era, test me
Louisville Slugger, get buried in my New Era

Got that Natti on, tighter than a
in the club sagging with a .38 magnum
Red Ralph Laurens, the double R sitting on a hill Lauren
Her and the car

Got my red Dre Beats on, to put my peeps on
And I keep it hood like this Phantom is a
my nigga Jim Jones at? Roll up the weed, son
So many Bloods in Compton had to get a NYC

And while I'm out here, I might as go shopping
And put this new bad bitch, I got her some Red
And all hating ass niggas want me dead
Because I'm Malcolm X he turned Muslim, R.E.D.

Now the fuck up
Everyday's a motherfucker tough luck
And we going to fuck the world 'til bitch bust nuts
I can't you what's good but I can tell you what's what

And B's up, ho's down
Looking in the mirror, I'm to be found
Blood, I'm a dog, call me a
Throwing Blood in the air, leave blood on the