Luyện nghe bài hát Referee

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now days all these bitches want me for fame
That's why I trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit'
you know about pain?
Never met a that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to some
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga stop
I my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried her son
But these niggas know it I am not the one

1: Yhung T.O.]
We ain't tripin' off no
Nigga make a move, we ain't off no words
I got money, I ain't trippin' off yo' purse
And the know my heart so I ain't trippin' off no church
I ain't trippin' off no sins that I know I committed
I trippin' off the pen
Thinkin' shit a game, you trippin' off yo' head
Brodie bro be off them drugs, he be off the meg
say I wear my heart on my shoulder
Now straight up in the so my heart got colder
Say they me dead, gotta watch for the vultures
You niggas never emptying guns you just loader
I try to tell DaBoii keep eyes open
They gon' try an knock you off so keep that on you
'Cause I rather slide you not to slide for you
And killin' on the verses 'cause we countin' on you

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now days all these bitches me for some fame
That's why I trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we gon'
And die for my respect
Slidin', gang members out wit' TECs
Nigga, die for my respect
Slidin', gang members out wit' TECs
What you know about
met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a lungs stop
I know my hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a got a gun
I know my momma 'bout her son
But these niggas it momma I am not the one

2: DaBoii]
I'ma die for my
Slidin' gang members hoppin' out TECs
Up top aimin' ain't no for a vest
What we spent on these half of y'all would be in debt
So stop like you slidin' when you know you ain't that dumb
Try and take my naw bitch I ain't for none
Wit' this Glock 27, I'll take a lung
Heard niggas want beef, cater it for fun
We ain't playin' you niggas, might as well stop talkin'
coppin' pleas lil' nigga stop callin'
Broke ass nigga, a hustle, start ballin'
We want all the smoke yeah we wan't all it
Over T.O. bitch I'm long clip Scottie Pippin
on lil' brodie you gon' have to pay a visit
All up in yo' section, I ain't for permission
Bullets wit' my name on it nigga come and send it
Bitch!

Yhung T.O.]
Now days all these bitches me for some fame
That's why I don't 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through jets where you niggas don't hang
If a want smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out TECs
Nigga, die for my respect
Slidin', gang hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me the game
I lost my to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a lungs stop
I my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma 'bout her son
But these niggas it momma I am not the one