Luyện nghe bài hát Rusty

Watch me get this money nigga, tired of being nigga
Nothing funny, me while I'm thrashing, I'ma punch a nigga
Never made of plastic, I'm a savage, you look lunch my
Passing all you fucking fags we don't discuss, my nigga
We ain't on no jolly and we don't pop no mollies, bitch
I'm hockin', spitting got some niggas out here Ollie switch
Buncha novices, odd the squad, its thick
Them young niggas is back and brash, attacking no common sense
We the last of a breed
And we don't give a fuck, so we supply your needs
You stupid niggas who had said our hype is dying,
My solid, making profit off the highest tees
Bitch, twerk as I get on the verse,
Nigga Dom so cool, I refer him in person
me get this money, I'm up when the bird's chirpin'
Make actions, fuck

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time
out at any time, getting money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You niggas gon' me mine, I don't have plenty time
out at any time, getting money, any grind
You niggas give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

In a world where kids my age are popping with leather
on tumblr, never outside or enjoying the weather
Can a sweater, but not a talent or don't know if whether
Or not they got one, tried to change life for the better
I was a drama club kid, I'd run with a fun dip, my itched
I was defiant, said, "fuck shit"
the popular ones, now I'm the popular one
Also hated homes too, til I start me some
See I beez in the trap, nigga, I beez in the b's
And I be gassin' in my like some bees in a shell
Fucking sick and getting like I sneezed on Adele
And bitches getting touchy-feely like they reading braille
I bust quick gun-holders with short tempers, and well
I tried to tell the kids, like it, start being yourself
These fucking rappers got stylists, it's they can't think for themselves
See, don't have an identity, so they needed some help, but
Really, boy posers looking boy
I'm in that past season shit, older than Tity Boi
Not a diss, but with ice cream, my shit is (diddy riese)
Na'kel smith transworld 64
Poppin' oil, ollies, and fire flames
I'm harder than DJ Khaled playing the fucking quiet
The fuck am I Tyler's not even a violent name
I'm 'bout as threatening as stained windbreakers in
But he rapes women, and spit wrong, like he hate
God damn menace, 666 and not finished
And my shit's missing, he hates women, but kittens
See y'all trippin' man
Look at that article that says my subject matter is
Saying I hate gays even frank is on 10 of my songs
Look at mom who thinks I'm evil, hold that grudge against me
I'm the reason that her motherfucking son got to eat
Look at the kid who had the 9 and tried to blow out his
But is money, I said, "hi," I guess I bought him some time
Look at the ones in the crowd, shit is barnacles, huh?
thought I wasn't fair until I threw a carnival, huh?
But then again, I'm an atheist that just Satan
And it's probably why I'm not no fucking album placements
And MTV could my dick, and I ain't fuckin' playing
Bruh, they played it, I just won shit for their fucking ratings
"Analog" fans are sick of the rape
All the Tron Cat fans are getting sick of the
But what about me, I'm getting sick of complaints
But I don't it when I'm taking daily trips to the bank
and over, shit, who really gives a fuck what I think?
My fans don't think on me, shit, they're almost extinct
Fuck buying studio time I'ma go a shrink
Record the and send all you motherfuckers a link, bitch

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You niggas gon' give me mine, I don't plenty time
Flying out at any time, money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You niggas gon' give me mine, I have plenty time
Flying out at any time, getting money, any
You gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

shit just like the nights I look forward to not remembering
So much for being sober, I that you can forgive me
But momma, I'm to the edge as possible (why don't you jump you fucking pussy?)
I'm it's a drop in my ocular, jumping like they told me
That the 40's half off, like you know that
Don't need a therapist to tell him he float that shit (fucking faggot)
Or get compared to fucking pair with all the program
So maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads (I'll show you)
Malt liquor filling me up, and all us not giving no and
All of them sensitive chumps in awe when that erupts (pistol, I got one!)
Dirty one spitting that sumpy raw his wrists in the cuffs
Bitch gotta (Oh, the fuck up!)