Luyện nghe bài hát Rusty

Watch me get this money nigga, tired of being nigga
funny, sass me while I'm thrashing, I'ma punch a nigga
Never made of plastic, I'm a savage, you lunch my nigga
Passing all you hating fucking we don't discuss, my nigga
We ain't on no jolly shit and we pop no mollies, bitch
I'm hockin', spitting got some niggas out here Ollie switch
novices, odd future the squad, its thick
Them niggas is back and brash, attacking with no common sense
We the last of a dying
And we don't a fuck, so we cannot supply your needs
You stupid niggas who had our hype is dying, please
My pocket's solid, making profit off the tees
Bitch, twerk as I get on the verse,
Nigga Dom so cool, I refer him in third
Watch me get this money, I'm up the bird's chirpin'
Make actions, fuck

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

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 give me mine

In a world where kids my age are mollies with leather
Sitting on tumblr, never outside or enjoying the
Can name a sweater, but not a talent or know if whether
Or not they got one, tried to change their life for the
I was a club kid, I'd run with a fun dip, my nuts itched
I was defiant, said, "fuck shit"
the popular ones, now I'm the popular one
Also hated homes too, til I coppin' me some
See I beez in the trap, nigga, I beez in the b's
And I be in my buzz like some bees in a shell
Fucking sick and getting like I sneezed on Adele
And bitches getting touchy-feely like they reading some
I bust like gun-holders with short tempers, and well
I tried to the kids, like fuck it, start being yourself
These fucking rappers got stylists, it's cause they think for themselves
See, they don't an identity, so they needed some help, but
Really, boy looking silly boy
I'm in that past season 'preme shit, older than Boi
Not a diss, but with ice cream, my shit is (diddy riese)
smith transworld page 64
Poppin' like oil, ollies, and flames
I'm harder DJ Khaled playing the fucking quiet game
The fuck am I saying? Tyler's not a violent name
I'm 'bout as threatening as stained in hurricanes
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 niggas trippin' man
Look at that article says my subject matter is wrong
Saying I hate even though frank is on 10 of my songs
Look at that mom who thinks I'm evil, that grudge against me
Though I'm the reason that her son got to eat
at the kid who had the 9 and tried to blow out his mind
But talk is money, I said, "hi," I I bought him some time
Look at the ones in the crowd, that is barnacles, huh?
They thought I wasn't fair until I a carnival, huh?
But then again, I'm an atheist just worships Satan
And it's why I'm not getting no fucking album placements
And MTV could suck my dick, and I ain't fuckin'
Bruh, they never 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 me, bitch? I'm getting sick of complaints
But I don't hate it when I'm daily trips to the bank
Over and over, shit, who really gives a what I think?
My fans don't turning on me, shit, they're almost extinct
buying studio time I'ma go purchase a shrink
Record the session and all you motherfuckers a link, bitch

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

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You niggas 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 give me mine

shit just like the nights I look forward to not remembering
So much for sober, I hope that you can forgive me
But momma, I'm close to the edge as (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, you know that cliff
Don't need a therapist to tell him he float that shit (fucking faggot)
Or get compared to fucking pair all the program kids
So maybe a pair of pale for the gonads lick (I'll show you)
Malt liquor me up, and all us not giving no fucks and
All of them sensitive chumps in awe when pistol erupts (pistol, I got one!)
Dirty one spitting sumpy raw till his wrists in the cuffs
Bitch (Oh, shut the fuck up!)