Luyện nghe bài hát Telephone Calls

Brr, brr, brr, brr
Ring, ring, ring, man
Who

Telephone call from Carti, said it's lit
Call the Lord, A$AP Bari, he legit
Money clean, young boy, Ian off the shit (Young Lord)
Fuckin' with boys out of Harlem or the six
is Gosha, man I pay for pussy? No sir
Ridin' coaster, roller coaster,

I got money
bag your bitch, I'ma buy your bitch
(I got money bags, up, turn up)
I'ma cash this shit, I'ma cash this
(I got money bags, turn up, up)
Cash Carti, bitch, Cash Carti,
(Carti, Carti)
You can have this shit, you can have this
(What you want, yo?)

Godfather rap, nappy plaits to the
James Brown swag, got a brand-new bag
And I don't how to act
On or off the record, go axe
back up on the map
True New York will knock the out you Jacks
Pop Snapple cap, pop facts
Gucci and Dior biddin'
Who order a piece before hit the floors
Not even shit you see overseas in
Who else with me? I know you seen the
I'm in Gibral', I been the
Holy tabernacle, missiles snap your rapper
Greedy for the fat guy's
Killin' niggas even black lives matter
Weak stomach, make 'em throw up
stones, I'm your stepfather
Tell Tyler, better step his up
Mix the pour up the Pepsi Cola
or the Motorola
Young nigga prolly grow up
man with the telephone, uh

Brr, brr, brr, brr
Ring, ring, ring, man
Who

Fuck with Taco, fuck with
Fuck with Lionel, man that shit is gon' get
Shirt is striped, my are short
My Vans are Vans 'cause Tyler does not fuck with
Fuck the Gucci, the Raf
And fuck the swag and all that shit they wearin'
the Rolls and fuck the 'Rari
Fuck the Lambo, Tyler only McLaren
Niggas think they really on they trappin'
about like 30 thousand
Fuck the party, threw the
Attendance this year was 30 thousand
Shoppin', ballin', opal fire shinin'
Make my sapphire's glistenin'
Make the shit, I the shit
They cop the shit, Golf you bitch, you niggas trippin'
I'm a businessman, you ain't been the man
Make a tax chain like have you seen my home?
got a tennis court
Get my Venus and on
Golf in this bitch, better the doctor
Ambulance when I hit the scene
That boy than a bag of bees
I got my flowers, a jeweler
Diamond, fingers size of a
He's a genius, you heard the rumors?
a winner, no not a loser
Fuck passin' blunts, my niggas opportunities
Goddamn, I'm hot, man, I'm not to freeze
January, Hawaiian
Boy this ain't got a thing on me
Where's the I'm that nigga
Kunta got much shit on me
I'm a master, I hit my own back
To be like, "Y'all boys, my nigga"
Fuck that, it's Golf,

it for Yams, ayy, ayy
I to do it for the grams, ayy, ayy
been way before Instagram, ayy, ayy
I used to serve it for mans
Postman! this?
Walk, Gleesh,
Walk, walk Gleesh,
Walk, walk, Gleesh, walk
Walk, walk, walk, walk,
Walk, walk, walk, walk,
Walk, walk, walk, walk,
Walk, walk, walk, walk,
Walk, walk, walk, walk,
Walk, walk, walk, walk,
Walk, walk, walk, walk,