Luyện nghe bài hát Referee

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

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

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now days all these bitches 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 smoke then 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 know pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't me 'bout the game
I my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga stop
I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she her son
And the cops wonder why a got a gun
I know my momma 'bout her son
But these know it momma I am not the one

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

Yhung 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 that's what we gon' bring
And I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out wit'
What you know about
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the
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 wonder why a nigga got a gun
I know my worried 'bout her son
But these know it momma I am not the one