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 just 'em to the gang
We be slidin' through them jets where you don't hang
If a nigga want smoke then what we gon' bring
And die for my respect
Slidin', members hoppin' out wit' TECs
Nigga, die for my respect
Slidin', gang members hoppin' out TECs
you know about pain?
Never met a referee that couldn't me 'bout the game
I lost my to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a lungs stop
I know my grandma hurtin' she lost her son
And the cops wonder why a got a gun
I know my momma 'bout her son
But these niggas it momma I am not the one

1: Yhung T.O.]
We ain't off no nerds
Nigga make a move, we ain't trippin' off no
I got money, I ain't 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 that I
I trippin' off the pen
Thinkin' shit a game, you ain't 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 got colder
Say they me dead, gotta watch for the vultures
You niggas never emptying guns you just loader
I try to tell DaBoii keep eyes 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 killin' on the verses 'cause we on you

[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 slidin' through them jets where you niggas don't
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 hoppin' out wit'
What you know about
Never met a referee that couldn't me 'bout the game
I lost my 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 worried her son
But these niggas it momma I am not the one

[Verse 2:
I'ma die for my
Slidin' gang members out wit' TECs
Up top aimin' ain't no for a vest
What we spent on these half of y'all would be in debt
So talkin' like you slidin' when you know you ain't that dumb
Try and take my chain naw bitch I ain't for
Wit' this Glock 27, take a nigga lung
Heard want beef, I'll cater it for fun
We ain't playin' wit' you niggas, might as well talkin'
Fuck coppin' pleas lil' stop callin'
Broke ass nigga, a hustle, start ballin'
We want all the smoke yeah bitch we all it
Over T.O. bitch I'm trippin' clip Scottie Pippin
on lil' brodie you gon' have to pay a visit
All up in yo' section, I askin' for permission
Bullets wit' my name on it nigga come and send it
Bitch!

Yhung T.O.]
Now days all these bitches me for some 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 hoppin' out TECs
What you about pain?
Never met a referee that tell me 'bout the game
I my nigga to some gunshots
Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs
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 niggas know it momma I am not the one