Luyện nghe bài hát Referee

[Chorus: T.O.]
Now all these bitches want 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 nigga smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And die for my respect
Slidin', gang members out wit' TECs
Nigga, die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out TECs
What you about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't tell me 'bout the
I lost my to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga stop
I know my hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops why a nigga got a gun
I know my momma worried her son
But these know 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 ain't off yo' purse
And the Lord know my heart so I ain't trippin' off no
I trippin' off no sins that I know that I committed
I ain't 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 heart on my
Now straight up in the wind so my heart got
Say they want me dead, gotta watch for the
You niggas never them guns you just loader
I try to tell keep your eyes open
They gon' try an you off so keep that iron 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 bitches want me for some fame
That's why I don't trust 'em I just pass 'em to the
We be slidin' through 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, I'ma die for my
Slidin', members hoppin' out wit' TECs
What you know about
Never met a 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 grandma hurtin' 'cause she her son
And the cops why a nigga got a gun
I my momma worried 'bout her son
But niggas know it momma I am not the one

[Verse 2:
die for my respect
Slidin' gang members out wit' TECs
Up top ain't no reason for a vest
What we spent on these 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 ain't for
Wit' this Glock 27, I'll a nigga lung
Heard niggas want beef, cater it for fun
We ain't wit' you niggas, might as well stop talkin'
Fuck coppin' pleas lil' nigga callin'
Broke ass nigga, find a hustle, ballin'
We all the smoke yeah bitch 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 askin' for
Bullets wit' my on it pussy nigga come and send it
Bitch!

Yhung 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 slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't
If a nigga smoke then that's what we gon' bring
And die for my respect
Slidin', gang members out wit' TECs
Nigga, I'ma die for my
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out TECs
What you about 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 my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a got a gun
I know my momma worried her son
But niggas know it momma I am not the one