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 look my nigga
all you hating 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 back and brash, with no common sense
We the of a dying breed
And we don't give a fuck, so we cannot your needs
You stupid who had said our hype is dying, please
My pocket's solid, profit off the highest tees
Bitch, twerk as I get on the verse,
Dom so cool, I refer him in third person
Watch me get money, I'm up when the bird's chirpin'
Make actions, fuck

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

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

In a world where my age are popping mollies with leather
Sitting on tumblr, never or enjoying the weather
Can name a sweater, but not a talent or don't know if
Or not they got one, tried to change their for the better
I was a drama club kid, I'd run with a fun dip, my itched
I was defiant, said, "fuck shit"
Hated the popular ones, now I'm the one
Also hated homes too, til I coppin' me some
See I don't in the trap, nigga, I beez in the b's
And I be gassin' in my buzz some bees in a shell
Fucking sick and getting bigger 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 tell the kids, like fuck it, start being
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, than Tity Boi
Not a diss, but same with ice cream, my is (diddy riese)
smith transworld page 64
Poppin' oil, ollies, and fire flames
I'm harder than DJ playing the fucking quiet game
The fuck am I saying? Tyler's not even a violent
I'm 'bout as threatening as windbreakers in hurricanes
But he women, and spit wrong, like he hate dentists
God menace, 666 and he's not finished
And my shit's missing, he women, but loves kittens
See niggas trippin' man
Look at article that says my subject matter is wrong
Saying I hate gays even though frank is on 10 of my
Look at that mom who thinks I'm evil, hold that grudge me
Though I'm the reason her motherfucking son got to eat
Look at the kid who had the 9 and tried to out his mind
But talk is money, I said, "hi," I guess I bought him some
Look at the ones in the crowd, shit is barnacles, huh?
They thought I wasn't fair until I threw a carnival,
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 getting sick of the
All the Tron Cat fans are sick of the lakes
But what me, bitch? I'm getting sick of complaints
But I don't hate it I'm taking daily trips to the bank
and over, shit, who really gives a fuck what I think?
My fans don't think turning on me, shit, almost extinct
Fuck studio time 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' me mine, I don't have plenty time
Flying out at any time, money, any grind
You niggas give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

This shit just like the nights I look forward to not
So much for being sober, I hope you can forgive me
But momma, I'm close to the edge as possible (why 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 that cliff
Don't need a to tell him he could float that shit (fucking faggot)
Or get compared to pair with all the program kids
So a pair of pale bitches 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 that pistol erupts (pistol, I got one!)
Dirty one that sumpy raw till his wrists in the cuffs
gotta (Oh, shut the fuck up!)