Luyện nghe bài hát Referee

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now days all these bitches want me for some
why I don't 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 then what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit'
Nigga, die for my respect
Slidin', gang hoppin' out wit' TECs
you know about pain?
Never met a that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my nigga to gunshots
Now we slidin' make a nigga lungs stop
I know my grandma 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a got a gun
I know my momma 'bout her son
But these niggas know it I am not the one

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

[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 jets where you niggas don't
If a nigga want smoke then that's what we bring
And I'ma die for my
Slidin', members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members out wit' TECs
What you know pain?
met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a lungs stop
I know my hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma 'bout her son
But niggas know it momma I am not the one

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

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