Luyện nghe bài hát Right Back

[Intro:
Hi, my name is
I'm in this bitch for my nigga
And the kid trunks

1: Wifisfuneral]
I scream low rate in the skies
3 xanax put it to the test
I a motherfucker blank dead in the eye
Demons coming out in the evening,
I can't lie man, I wish I was dead now
[?]
I'd bury myself in the motherfucking grave now
What's the play now?
Young pimp coming alive from the motherfucking grave right now
Ay, dubs in my can't move
You walk around a human pharmaceutical
I ain't new to this, new to you
I'm postin' guap bitch how you
Got bands on bands, I can to the roof
Got on drugs and your bitch getting loose
Got drinks, got purp, got sticks, it do?
Bussin' right on the pack
Name nigga with the sack
Got six of the tech
Spent ten on my wrist
800 right on these shoes
Air game, game, what it do?
Know if any bitch swallow my
New block, 40 go
But fuck that, now I got
The move slow like the matrix
New block, 40 go
But fuck that, now I got
The lean slow like the matrix
New block, 40 go
But fuck that, now I got

Wifisfuneral]
Bussin' right on the pack
Name another nigga with the
Bussin' right on the pack
Name another with the sack
Bussin' right on the pack
Name another with the sack

2: Yung KiD Trunks]
Two to your motherfucking chest
High class weed, smokin' stank a motherfucking pest
My cup dirtier than the L.A
Diamonds on me is make you shiver
Sippin on act you can my liver
My chain is so swolled and it look glitter
Choked out, smoked out, what you crying
Lyin' on your feelings now you're crying now
I a [?] bitch that you talking now
I feel no empathy as we kill your rave, bitch
ounce, eight ounce
Four ounce, it down
Eight
Four ounce, ounce, break it down
One pound, two pound, smoke it down, break it
One ounce, eight ounce, three ounce, it down