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

Turn me up Cruz
I told if them niggas hatin' they gon' suffer
I'm goin' up a every day
You how I play!

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

[Part 2:

This summer here, nigga
We up
Litted, litted
Philly!

I'm broads in Atlanta
Bunch of and the Fanta
Bunch of in the Phantom
Spendin' like a scammer
My young in the kitchen whippin'
Whippin', large at the hammer
Duckin' law and the
my dawgs out the slammer
Black car,
Shorty call, never
20 in the mansion
Diamonds on me and dancin'
I really understand rappers
jumpin' on bandwagons
All these got my pants saggin'
63s on the wagon
62s on the
Bitch I'm comin' for the
62s in the pot,
whip it up and bring it way back
You in the and spending your cop money
All on the 'Gram actin' like you got money
We at you like you need to stop money
You killin' yourself with that half a block money
I got go to the mall and get what I want paper
You the type I fall, that's what you want, hater
'Member back when I was broke? I only had one
These suckers gon' hate you no matter you or you own paper
Hundred bands, up
We gettin' money, mad at us
At the jeweler more Rollies
I don't think these niggas man
Fuck them niggas, we stuntin' on 'em
Niggas, ain't got nothin' on us
Niggas that we fuck with
Run and tellin' people that we on 'em
Nigga made me put a on you
Do you dirty, put the on you
Shots stoppin', pop, pop, pop, pop
run up on you
Dead bodies,
Head shot, cry
Cops lookin', got an
Lawyer money, nigga, buyin'
Hold! They hit my Chino in his head
Hold! Took him to LIV my nigga ain't
No! in Miami on Sunday, we did
Ho! Blowin' the racks, we at Grand
All black
White bitch Samantha
and black, she a panda
White and black, she a
Whippin' the... rock the...

I should have run with the rest...