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

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

Skinny in the Benz truck
through like a nunchuck
Summertime bring 30s out
Tell put the sticks up
Wait... hold up, up
How can niggas go us?
Cold wouldn't even shoot us
See us roll on 'em a lint brush
Phil out them bandos
We ain't leavin' 'til the brick's
Couple hundred, we vac seal 'em
Just to ride it like a Brinks truck
Wait, wait, Louboutins and the wrist
Bitch you claiming I done been
You even gotta trip, bruh
In the in the Maybach
Fuck I even got the for?
I'm the nigga got one
Who the fuck I gotta hide
Barcelini shotgun
Shooters with him, mind nigga
Young niggas on Street
Word to Mack, they'll rock
Wait, wait!
North side of Philly my side of
Bulletproof whip when I ride
Niggas talk shit I'm not around
Wouldn't tell you we run the city
But we movin', gotta say we now
Hit the city and we down
Ain't no runnin' now, out of bounds
this, plug that
Niggas rappin', they ain't sold nothin'
Hold this that
I ain't these niggas hold nothin'
Summertime, niggas foreign whips
You can tell the comin'
Put my on the flyer
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 slim down
I'm so poppin' all my haters friends now
Diamonds like Mike Jackson
Shit shining like jacket
in a Rolls Royce
Through the rearview, see my backwards
Percocets, popped two 10s on a 20, nigga now I ain't
So wavy, I ain't rappin'
tell me that I ain't swaggin', no way

[Part 2:

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

I'm broads in Atlanta
of drugs and the Fanta
Bunch of guns in the
Spendin' money like a
My young niggas in the kitchen
Whippin', large at the hammer
Duckin' law and the
my dawgs out the slammer
Black car,
call, never answer
20 in the mansion
Diamonds on me and dancin'
I don't understand rappers
jumpin' on bandwagons
All these bands got my pants
63s on the Benz
62s on the
Bitch I'm for the payback
62s in the pot,
Tryna it up and bring it way back
You in the club and spending cop money
All on the 'Gram actin' that you got money
We lookin' at you like you need to stop
You killin' yourself with that lil' half a block
I got that go to the mall and get what I want
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 you broke or you own paper
bands, added up
We money, they mad at us
At the jeweler buyin' Rollies
I don't think these man enough
Fuck them niggas, shit we on 'em
Niggas, ain't got nothin' on us
Niggas we never fuck with
Run and people that we fronted on 'em
Nigga me put a hundred on you
Do you dirty, put the on you
Shots stoppin', pop, pop, pop, pop
run up on you
Dead bodies,
Head shot, cry
lookin', got an alibi
Lawyer money, nigga, time
Hold! They hit my nigga in his head
Hold! Took him to LIV my nigga dead
No! Ball in on Sunday, we did
Ho! the racks, we at Vanity Grand
All black
White bitch named
and black, she a panda
White and black, she a
Whippin' the... rock the...

I should have run with the rest...