Luyện nghe bài hát Session

[Verse 1:
I'm Tyler, Mr. Green Hat, anti-clean rap
Fuck your blog opinion and your
My self-respect I that, in the lost and found
Where the black get their weaves back
I achieve that mini, blasting "You're a jerk"
In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking
Bouncing round the trying to find an easy way to rape Minnie
Bet you thirty dollars you find her like Cartman found Kenny,
I my girls smart, skinny
Kinda pop tart, when I bite 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 them
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 errant
I'm watching the Berrics head from someone's parent
Blind hate inside my heart, guaranteed
That I'm in the force with the cyclops staring
I'm flying on a beaver, you're a
So don't ask for no ride when you see us
right past you, the shit-list said that I'm nutty such a cashew
Cause I jack off dish soap and smell gas fumes
Permanent brain damage to tattoos
The shit, you can mention me if ask you
Kill the jungle let the loose
You see me here if someone ask you

[Verse 2: Hodgy
I want to her in every way
Mary Jane keeps me high every day
Bong, vaporizer, in the now
Stuck in my high, of heights, I'm trapped
Buy a swisher for a dollar or two blunt
Roll it up and ensure everything's fat
She got time to try and relieve ya
But she'll get all in your head,

3: BranDun Deshay]
I'm good but y'all don't want me vegetables
I'm all in front of you zeroes like
Let's take them like the decibels
So we get them high, get them high like
In a overweight mother-lover, my tracks is filled with
That's fat, who needs another
Chica-Go-Getter from Odd Future, to ride solo
I ain't really care what the rest say
Type of nigga to 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 girlfriend so I'm a lying until the verse end, FIN
Deshay, Hodgy Beats, Ace the Creator
Odd Future, O.F. until, until now until forever

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