Luyện nghe bài hát Warm It Up

You, you
Warm it up, it up
Warm it up, it up, warm it up
it up, warm it up
Warm it up, warm it up, it up

This that Young shit, yeah this that Young Sinatra shit
the fuck up and listen whenever your Sinatra spit
Yeah your girl as as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick
Hey how can you tell? She on a Young Sinatra dick
All these wack as fuck, make the Young Sinatra sick
RattPack be the squad, that's that Young clique
God damn, this the Young clique, God damn
Listen, yeah, I'm the realism in my life and actuality
Stuck to me yeah this shit is my galaxy
I am who the be
I'd rather be at
be glad to be me
Magnify the shit bifocal
Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in person they never
Come to the and fuck you up if you prefer to be local
I'm local, Noho, to Soho,
Getting G's I'm Frodo, you know ho I'm
like Sunday, flyer than a runway
Little never second guess that he goin' make it one day
One wake, or another my brother word to mother
They should give me a badge cuz I'm always

God damn I'm a man
You I get, I get it, I get it, I get it
turn out to spit it, rewind it and rip it
I can murder your album with a 30 second snippet
Pass the Mary Jane like I'm running a train with Parker
Until I have more sex in the city Jessica Parker
The deeper and I go it get darker
They say the want the old me, the want the Young Sinatra
The one murder it, rip it up
Never gonna give it up around an
Yeah I'm all of that, fall back, like September
Basking these so hard that they won't remember again
When it comes to Hip Hop, bitch I'm to this
This apparent, I'm down like a parent
When the beef is at steak, I'm
My god level lyricism flows
I'm more than fast flows,
Money talk flows,
Great as the numbers at shows

Fuck that rap shit this trap shit (Bobby)
This world is my (Bobby)
I was born and in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk get kidnapped son (Bobby)
I don't really why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got (ayy)
Couple cars yeah I bought some (ayy)
you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't really know where I from
that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know me right now
I want I get it somehow

Fuck that trap shit that rap shit
Give me the hand John the Baptist
Ready to it I hoove in the catcher
Greatest alive like I'm
I put 'em all in caskets
They can't see me get this
I'm a bastard that mastered the flow and none of ready for this massacre though
Fuck what Logic had though
Matter of fact it's not but highly improbable like
Saying the police robbable
But I'm liable to walk up into a in blue face
fuck the police!
Blue lives ain't a
Fuck whoever said this rap was never a race
This a marathon
you motherfuckers and carry on
Claiming that you 'bout ya shit
You got Jim Carrey on, "Liar liar"
I might ya
one 'til I die
Will never
I am the
I am the God of shit
is how we do it
Yeah I this shit, yes I started this shit like

Fuck that rap shit this that trap (Bobby)
world is my contraption (Bobby)
I was born and raised in the son (Bobby)
Talk get kidnapped son (Bobby)
I really know why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, I got some (ayy)
Couple sports cars yeah I bought (ayy)
you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't know where I come from
Talking shit, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really about me right now
Everything I I get it somehow