Luyện nghe bài hát Rusty

Watch me get this money nigga, tired of hungry nigga
Nothing funny, sass me while I'm thrashing, punch a nigga
made of plastic, I'm a savage, you look lunch my nigga
Passing all you hating fucking fags we don't discuss, my
We ain't on no shit and we don't pop no mollies, bitch
I'm hockin', spitting got some out here poppin' Ollie switch
novices, odd future the squad, its thick
Them young niggas is back and brash, attacking with no common
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, twerk as I get on the verse,
Nigga Dom so cool, I him in third person
me get this money, I'm up when the bird's chirpin'
Make actions, rehearsing

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 gon' me mine

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

In a world where kids my age are popping mollies leather
on tumblr, never outside or enjoying the weather
Can a sweater, but not a talent or don't know if whether
Or not they got one, tried to their life for the better
I was a drama 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 homes too, til I start coppin' me some
See I don't beez in the trap, nigga, I in the b's
And I be gassin' in my buzz like some bees in a
Fucking sick and getting bigger I sneezed on Adele
And bitches getting like they reading some braille
I bust quick like gun-holders with short tempers, and
I tried to tell the kids, like fuck it, start being
These fucking rappers got stylists, it's cause they can't think for
See, they have an identity, so they needed some help, but
Really, boy posers looking boy
I'm in past season 'preme shit, older than Tity Boi
Not a diss, but same with ice cream, my is (diddy riese)
smith transworld page 64
Poppin' like oil, ollies, and flames
I'm harder than DJ Khaled the fucking quiet game
The fuck am I saying? Tyler's not even a violent
I'm 'bout as threatening as stained in hurricanes
But he rapes women, and spit wrong, like he hate
God menace, 666 and he's not finished
And my shit's missing, he women, but loves kittens
See y'all niggas man
Look at that that says my subject matter is wrong
I hate gays even though frank is on 10 of my songs
Look at that mom who thinks I'm evil, hold grudge 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
Look at the in the crowd, that shit is barnacles, huh?
They thought I wasn't 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 fucking placements
And MTV could my dick, and I ain't fuckin' playing
Bruh, never played it, I just won shit for their fucking ratings
"Analog" fans are sick of the rape
All the Tron Cat fans are getting of the lakes
But what about me, bitch? I'm getting sick of
But I don't hate it when I'm taking trips to the bank
Over and over, shit, who really a fuck what I think?
My fans don't turning on me, shit, they're almost extinct
Fuck buying studio time I'ma go purchase a
Record the session and send all you a link, bitch

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' me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

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

This shit just like the 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 you fucking pussy?)
I'm seeing it's a drop in my ocular, jumping like told me
That the half off, like you know that cliff
Don't need a therapist to tell him he could float that (fucking faggot)
Or get compared to pair with all the program kids
So maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads (I'll show you)
Malt filling 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 that sumpy raw till his in the cuffs
gotta (Oh, shut the fuck up!)