Luyện nghe bài hát Rusty

Watch me get money nigga, tired of being hungry nigga
funny, sass 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 shit and we don't pop no mollies,
I'm hockin', spitting got some out here poppin' Ollie switch
Buncha novices, odd future the squad, its
Them young niggas is and brash, attacking with no common sense
We the last of a dying
And we don't give a fuck, so we 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 person
me get this money, I'm up when the bird's chirpin'
Make actions, fuck

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

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

In a world where kids my age are mollies with leather
on tumblr, never outside or enjoying the weather
Can name a sweater, but not a or don't 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"
Hated the ones, now I'm the popular 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
sick and getting bigger 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 the kids, like fuck it, start being yourself
These fucking rappers got stylists, it's cause can't think for themselves
See, they don't have an identity, so they needed help, but
Really, boy posers silly boy
I'm in that past season 'preme shit, older than Boi
Not a diss, but same with ice cream, my is (diddy riese)
Na'kel smith page 64
Poppin' oil, ollies, and fire flames
I'm harder DJ Khaled playing the fucking quiet game
The fuck am I saying? Tyler's not a violent name
I'm as threatening as stained windbreakers in hurricanes
But he rapes women, and spit wrong, like he hate
God damn menace, 666 and he's not
And my shit's missing, he hates women, but kittens
See y'all trippin' man
Look at that that says my subject matter is wrong
Saying I hate gays even though is on 10 of my songs
at that mom who thinks I'm evil, hold that grudge against me
Though I'm the reason her motherfucking son got to eat
Look at the kid who had the 9 and tried to blow out his
But talk is money, I said, "hi," I guess I bought him time
at the ones in the crowd, that shit is barnacles, huh?
They thought I wasn't fair until I threw a carnival,
But then again, I'm an atheist that just worships
And it's probably why I'm not getting no fucking 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" are getting sick of the rape
All the Tron Cat fans are getting of the lakes
But what about me, I'm getting sick of complaints
But I don't it when I'm taking daily trips to the bank
Over and over, shit, who really a fuck what I think?
My fans don't think on me, shit, they're almost extinct
Fuck buying studio I'ma go purchase a shrink
Record the session and send all you motherfuckers a link,

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' 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 niggas gon' me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

This shit just like the nights I look to not remembering
So for being 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 seeing it's a drop in my ocular, jumping like told me
the 40's half off, like you know that cliff
Don't need a therapist to tell him he float that shit (fucking faggot)
Or get compared to pair with all the program kids
So maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads lick (I'll you)
Malt liquor me up, and all us not giving no fucks and
All of them sensitive chumps in awe that pistol erupts (pistol, I got one!)
Dirty one spitting that sumpy raw till his in the cuffs
Bitch gotta (Oh, shut the up!)