Luyện nghe bài hát Spitfire

Wire taps, y'all grown liars
I'm Julius Cleo betting on my empire
I'm busy in the jet, like a
Grandiose in the house, looking Granada
I'm to your daughter's daughter
Want my head like Pompeii, the rider
I write you off like a infraction
I'm through with all the
misery got bad company
Fuck all y'all
LK, symbolic
All the I embody
You might get shot, but Johnny's driving nice
Tryna park it, you holla if it ain't my Gualla
Growing up I'm from, iPhone to get you towed on
Located in bankroll, my niggas the dome
The shit I've waited for since Brenda Song
Told you I'd make-make it home, motherfuckers
This no ball game, mad ruckus
More like the Rucker, like Christchurch, mother
Teresa cash, and visas
Not the car, but the passport
Need the passport if you're riding the asshole
Tell her no bags, we on tour, freak
We a nice cold week and if you ass caught creeping
I'm balanced on the poppers, if I stop tell who dropping
I'm topic of discussion when it's who young the money
I'm here,
I my name from the bleachers
But I'm too busy
Looking up to deceased
Long live the king, Martin had a dream

And me
Busy in the jet a spitfire
Julius my empire
Y'all some grown
Busy in the jet like a
built my empire
Y'all grown liars
Y'all some grown