Luyện nghe bài hát Trap Vibes (Summer Sixteen & Panda Remix)

Turn me up some
I told Barcelini if them niggas hatin' they gon'
I'm up a hundred every day
You how I play!

Skinny nigga in the truck
Swingin' through a nunchuck
Summertime them 30s out
Coon put the sticks up
Wait... up, hold up
How can niggas go us?
Cold pussies wouldn't even us
See us on 'em like a lint brush
Phil movin' out bandos
We ain't leavin' the brick's done
Couple hundred, we vac seal 'em
Just to ride it like a Brinks truck
Wait, wait, and the wrist bust
Bitch you claiming I done fuck
You ain't gotta trip, bruh
In the trenches in the
Fuck I got the tint for?
I'm the nigga got one
Who the fuck I hide from?
Barcelini shotgun
Shooters him, never mind nigga
niggas on Sigel Street
Word to Mack, rock somethin'
Wait, wait!
North of Philly my side of town
Bulletproof whip I ride around
Niggas shit when I'm not around
tell you that we run the city
But we movin', say we joggin' now
Hit the city and we runnin'
Ain't no runnin' now, out of bounds
Plug this, plug
Niggas rappin', they ain't sold nothin'
Hold this hold
I ain't lettin' these niggas nothin'
Summertime, niggas coppin' whips
You can the load comin'
Put my name on the
All the trappers, all the bad comin'
dickridin' other niggas, that's a trend now
I'm still rockin' with the same Chasers I've been
Got so much work out we might down
I'm so poppin' all my turn friends now
dancin' like Mike Jackson
Shit shining Mike's jacket
Moonwalkin' in a Royce
the rearview, see my life backwards
Percocets, popped two 10s on a 20, now I ain't active
So wavy, nigga I ain't
Can't tell me that I swaggin', no way

2: Panda]

This summer here, nigga
We up
Litted, it's
Philly!

I'm broads in Atlanta
of drugs and the Fanta
Bunch of guns in the
Spendin' money like a
My young in the kitchen whippin'
Whippin', livin' large at the
Duckin' law and the
my dawgs out the slammer
Black car,
Shorty call, never
20 foreigns in the
on me and they dancin'
I don't really understand
Niggas jumpin' on
All these got my pants saggin'
63s on the wagon
62s on the
I'm comin' for the payback
62s in the pot,
Tryna whip it up and bring it way
You in the club and spending your cop
All on the 'Gram actin' that you got money
We lookin' at you like you to stop money
You killin' yourself with that lil' a block money
I got that go to the mall and get what I paper
You the type hopin' I fall, that's what you want,
back when I was broke? I only had one hater
These gon' hate you no matter you broke or you own paper
bands, added up
We gettin' money, mad at us
At the buyin' more Rollies
I don't think these man enough
Fuck them niggas, shit we on 'em
Niggas, ain't got nothin' on us
Niggas that we fuck with
Run and tellin' people we fronted on 'em
made me put a hundred on you
Do you dirty, put the on you
never stoppin', pop, pop, pop, pop
run up on you
Dead bodies,
Head shot, cry
Cops lookin', got an
Lawyer money, nigga, time
Hold! hit my nigga Chino in his head
Hold! him to LIV my nigga ain't dead
No! Ball in on Sunday, we did
Ho! the racks, we at Vanity Grand
All Panamera
White bitch Samantha
White and black, she a
and black, she a panda
Whippin' the... rock the...

I should have just run the rest...