Luyện nghe bài hát Speakers on Blast

It's not usual, the be, all up on some South shit
Straight Coasting, you can tell by my outfit
Red 'nati fitted, "Blood in, out" shit
jelly jars, nigga, bird in the couch shit
The mad rapper, Oscar the Grouch
Except I'm hopping out of cans, I'm pulling out shit
the 4 though, double X 3-D Polo
If was the league, I'd be the motherfuckin logo
Your shit was so-so, you should sign to Jermaine
I've been since I was solo
Niggas feel my pain, I make it without the strippers
Go against the grain, and put your shit like some clippers
I bang and then I hang out at the like Blake Griffin
You can tell I'm getting money the way that house is sitting
I mash out the strip like Nas when I'm dippin
Feeling like God's Son, the way It Was Written

Them boys want they music on
Don't turn me down, turn me up every time cops pass
Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't ask
Cause I got another up in the stash
Them boys they music on blast
Don't turn me down, turn me up every time cops pass
Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't ask
Cause I take 2 hits, and I pass

I see the cops in the rearview, why a motherfucker chill in the car
Feelin' Missy, why you all up in my grill
They must know that I got bird all up in my grill
Camouflage by the Armor All while it's off my wheels
And I fuck hoes that on Dwight Howard and Shaquille
Not them throwback rats they be on college hill
For real, I think my first album 5 mil'
And you say to "He's broke"
Well how the am I ballin', like Spalding
I did a of movies, now agents calling and calling
Can't get to the phone right now cause balls is all in this mouth
When did we start these tricks out?
Now she gon' run her big and tell her girlfriend
You had her all up in the
Blowing yo cheese on Louie Vuitton, and now that bitch is in the
And after the next draft, she start that cycle again
How you claimin' that bitch when she with
Come cause

[Big
Daddy Fat Sax, my are on your chin, but can you tell me where my dick's at?
Come order ghetto, head hunter, head buster through the
I skip to the lou, my darling bring the thunder, I'm the lightning that strikes
Motherfucker, call me mass of, cause I run the plantation and I'm whooping asses
If they disrespect the presentation, below the Mason-Dixon, we facin' the basses were missin' pimpin'
You can embrace it or come face to face total devastation
My mojo is fadin', I'm in my Optimus Prime transform
it up, heat it up, speed it up, that means I'm gone
Like gears, of your Buzz, Toy Story and club songs
Boy, gone, the A-T-L-iens are phoning
But I feel like a librarian, cause style's are loaned out like books
A castle full of crooks, and pillage
They'll do for money, I bet misleading the village


Not from New England, but I a patriot
Not from Atlanta, but I got the
Not Chicago, but I'm a bear
I'm a bay nigga, 49er, Raider
I'm about my man, I ain't no sucker
Now these ass niggas soft as table butter
I'm my riches, magazines, street hustler
You can ask your uncles, daddies, mothers, and your brothers
But I used to flee that yellow white
Sellin' that below the retail price
I'm a rare breed the bike club, get it right
like Tori Amos, shout out to dynamite
I got my red cup, and some
What kind of green you smoking pimp? dream
My nigga let my hit there hemp, do your thing
How many in your trunk? 4 15s