Luyện nghe bài hát Referee

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now days all these bitches me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I pass 'em to the gang
We be through them jets where you niggas don't hang
If a nigga smoke then 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 hoppin' out wit' TECs
you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me the game
I lost my to some 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 know my worried 'bout her son
But these niggas it momma I am not the one

1: Yhung T.O.]
We tripin' off no nerds
Nigga make a move, we ain't trippin' off no
Bitch I got money, I ain't trippin' off yo'
And the Lord know my heart so I ain't 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 ain't trippin' off yo'
Brodie bro be off them drugs, he be off the meg
say I wear my heart on my shoulder
Now up in the wind 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 DaBoii keep eyes open
They gon' try an knock you off so keep that on you
I rather slide wit' you not to slide for you
And keep on the verses 'cause we countin' on you

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now days all these bitches want me for some
That's why I don't 'em I just pass 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you don't hang
If a want smoke 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 TECs
What you know pain?
Never met a referee couldn't tell me 'bout the game
I lost my to some gunshots
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 'bout her son
But niggas know it momma I am not the one

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

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now all these bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just '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 members hoppin' out wit'
Nigga, I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members out wit' TECs
What you know 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 lungs
I know my grandma hurtin' she lost her son
And the cops why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma 'bout her son
But these know it momma I am not the one