Luyện nghe bài hát Rusty

Watch me get this money nigga, tired of being hungry
Nothing funny, sass me while I'm thrashing, I'ma 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 and we don't pop no mollies, bitch
I'm hockin', spitting got some niggas out here Ollie switch
Buncha novices, odd future the squad, its
young niggas is back 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 said our is dying, please
My pocket's solid, profit off the highest tees
Bitch, as I get on the verse, cursin'
Dom so cool, I refer him in third person
Watch me get this money, I'm up when the bird's
actions, fuck rehearsing

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

In a world kids my age are popping mollies with leather
Sitting on tumblr, never outside or the weather
Can name a sweater, but not a talent or don't know if
Or not they got one, tried to change their life for the
I was a drama 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 start me some
See I beez in the trap, nigga, I beez in the b's
And I be gassin' in my buzz like some in a shell
Fucking sick and bigger like I sneezed on Adele
And getting touchy-feely like they reading some braille
I bust quick like with short tempers, and well
I tried to tell the kids, like fuck it, being yourself
These rappers got stylists, it's cause they can't think for themselves
See, don't have an identity, so they needed some help, but
Really, boy posers silly boy
I'm in past season 'preme shit, older than Tity Boi
Not a diss, but with ice cream, my shit is (diddy riese)
smith transworld page 64
Poppin' oil, ollies, and fire flames
I'm harder than DJ Khaled playing the quiet game
The fuck am I saying? Tyler's not even a name
I'm 'bout as threatening as stained in hurricanes
But he rapes women, and spit wrong, he hate dentists
God damn menace, 666 and not finished
And my shit's missing, he women, but loves kittens
See y'all niggas 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
I'm the reason that 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 him some time
at the ones in the crowd, that shit is barnacles, huh?
They thought I wasn't fair until I a carnival, huh?
But again, I'm an atheist that 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 playing
Bruh, they never it, I just won shit for their fucking ratings
"Analog" fans are getting sick of the
All the Cat fans are getting sick of the lakes
But what about me, bitch? I'm getting sick of
But I don't hate it when I'm taking daily to the bank
Over and over, shit, who really a fuck what I think?
My fans don't think turning on me, shit, they're extinct
buying studio time I'ma go purchase 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 gon' give me mine

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You gon' give 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' me mine

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