Luyện nghe bài hát Session

[Verse 1:
I'm Tyler, Mr. Green Hat, anti-clean rap
Fuck your blog opinion and your
My I leave that, in the lost and found
Where the girls get their weaves back
Awesome I achieve that mini, "You're a jerk"
In some fucking yellow looking like a fucking faggot
round the house trying to find an easy way to rape Minnie
Bet you thirty dollars you her like Cartman found Kenny, dead
I like my smart, skinny
pop tart, when I bite into them red
I'm a self-racist, you should this, ask Sarah, I'm the rapist
I'm a fascist, fuck fashion, Gucci belts is for faggots
My hat is by Jabbia and if you got a fucking
the future, you can get a death wish just like Atiba
Fuck the biz apparent, Odd Future
I'm the Berrics getting head from someone's parent
Blind fucking inside my heart, guaranteed
That I'm sharing in the force the cyclops staring
I'm flying on a beaver, a disbeliever
So don't ask for no ride when you see us
Swim right past you, the shit-list said that I'm nutty a cashew
Cause I jack off with soap and smell gas fumes
Permanent brain damage similar to
The shit, you can mention me if ask you
Kill the jungle let the cats
You didn't see me if someone ask you

[Verse 2: Beats]
I want to feel her in way
Mary Jane keeps me high like day
Bong, vaporizer, in the now
in my high, afraid of heights, I'm trapped
Buy a for a dollar or two blunt wraps
Roll it up and that everything's fat
She ain't got time to try and ya
But she'll get all in your head,

[Verse 3: Deshay]
I'm good but y'all don't want me vegetables
I'm all in front of you zeroes decimals
Let's them high like the decibels
So we get them high, get them like cholesterol
In a overweight mother-lover, my tracks is with blubber
That's fat, who needs producer?
Chica-Go-Getter from Odd Future, used to ride
Cause I really care what the rest say
Type of to jerk off to his own sex tape
Best stay away when the door closed, I show up with four
Best I'm leaving with more of those
And I got a so I'm a keep lying until the verse end, FIN
Deshay, Hodgy Beats, Ace the Creator
Odd Future, O.F. until, until from now until

[Alt. Verse 3: G]
We grind, these niggas asking for some
We sit back, observe, hella box logos
Square circle jerks starting O.F.
to the poets, I'm an O.F. prophet
No less profit, when we drop shit
Convertible coupe, bitches scream they tops split
that crack, give you something to sell
Put these bitches on lock down, something jail
Thought she hot I swear, probably rougher than
And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is Chanel
Light skinned women, all sex
we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything
Everything that we flight, living life
is everything that we call hype
I'm everything they call nice
She in and shit, she off that northern lights, right
Intimidated by niggas you be
I'm a G, and this is you can't see
Top ranked, one my son
And she looking for trees, baby we got some
And stay focused on the women and you get done
ironic cause I always hear you talking about one
Them other niggas smoke, they ain't high
How high? Nigga, than the kites they fly