Luyện nghe bài hát Rusty

Watch me get this money nigga, of being hungry nigga
Nothing funny, sass me I'm thrashing, I'ma punch a nigga
Never made of plastic, I'm a savage, you lunch my nigga
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 niggas out here poppin' Ollie switch
novices, odd future the squad, its thick
Them young niggas is back and brash, with no common sense
We the last of a breed
And we give a fuck, so we cannot supply your needs
You niggas who had said our hype is dying, please
My solid, making profit off the highest tees
Bitch, as I get on the verse, cursin'
Nigga Dom so cool, I refer him in third
Watch me get this money, I'm up when the chirpin'
Make actions, rehearsing

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

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

In a world where kids my age are mollies with leather
Sitting on tumblr, never or enjoying the weather
Can name a sweater, but not a or don't know if whether
Or not they got one, to change their life for the better
I was a club kid, I'd run with a fun dip, my nuts itched
I was defiant, said, "fuck shit"
Hated the popular ones, now I'm the one
Also hated homes too, til I start me some
See I don't beez in the trap, nigga, I in the b's
And I be in my buzz like some bees in a shell
Fucking and getting bigger like I sneezed on Adele
And bitches getting touchy-feely like reading some braille
I bust quick 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 have an identity, so needed some help, but
Really, boy looking silly boy
I'm in that past season 'preme shit, older Tity Boi
Not a diss, but same with ice cream, my is (diddy riese)
Na'kel smith page 64
like oil, ollies, and fire flames
I'm harder than DJ Khaled playing the fucking game
The am I saying? Tyler's not even a violent name
I'm 'bout as as stained windbreakers in hurricanes
But he women, and spit wrong, like he hate dentists
God damn menace, 666 and not finished
And my missing, he hates women, but loves 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, hold that against me
Though I'm the reason that her 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
at the ones in the crowd, that shit is barnacles, huh?
They thought I fair until I threw a carnival, huh?
But then again, I'm an atheist that just worships
And it's probably why I'm not getting no album placements
And MTV could suck my dick, and I ain't playing
Bruh, they never played it, I just won shit for their fucking
"Analog" fans are sick of the rape
All the Tron Cat fans are sick of the lakes
But what about me, I'm getting sick of complaints
But I don't hate it when I'm taking trips to the bank
and over, shit, who really gives a fuck 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 send all you a link, bitch

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

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

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