Luyện nghe bài hát Referee

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now days all bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you don't hang
If a nigga want smoke that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out TECs
What you about pain?
met a referee 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 why a nigga got a gun
I know my worried 'bout her son
But these niggas know it I am not the one

[Verse 1: T.O.]
We ain't off no nerds
Nigga make a move, we ain't off no words
Bitch I got money, I ain't off yo' purse
And the Lord know my heart so I ain't trippin' off no
I ain't trippin' off no that I know that I committed
I trippin' off the pen
Thinkin' a game, you ain't trippin' off yo' head
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 they want me dead, watch for the vultures
You niggas never emptying them guns you loader
I try to tell DaBoii keep your open
They gon' try an knock you off so that iron on you
'Cause I rather wit' you not to slide for you
And keep on the verses 'cause we countin' on you

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

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

Yhung T.O.]
Now days all bitches want me for some fame
why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga want then that's what we gon' bring
And die for my respect
Slidin', gang hoppin' out wit' 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 to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna a nigga lungs stop
I know my hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops why a nigga got a gun
I know my worried 'bout her son
But niggas know it momma I am not the one