Luyện nghe bài hát Warm It Up

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

This that Young Sinatra shit, yeah that Young Sinatra shit
Shut the fuck up and listen whenever your spit
Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra
Hey how can you tell? She on a Young Sinatra dick
All these rappers wack as fuck, make the Sinatra sick
RattPack be the squad, that's that Sinatra clique
God damn, this the Young clique, God damn
Listen, yeah, I'm the realism in my life and actuality
to me fatality yeah this shit is my galaxy
I am who the be
I'd be at academy
Killers be to be me
the shit like bifocal
Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in person they never
to the hood 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
Blessed like Sunday, flyer a runway
Little Bobby never second guess he goin' make it one day
One wake, or another my brother to your 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
They turn out to spit it, it and rip it
I can your whole album with a 30 second snippet
Pass the Mary Jane like I'm running a train with Parker
Until I have sex in the city than Jessica Parker
The and deeper I go it get darker
They say the want the old me, the want the Sinatra back
The one murder it, rip it up
Never give it up around an almanac
Yeah I'm all of that, fall back, like again
Basking these rappers so hard that they remember again
When it comes to Hip Hop, bitch I'm to this
This apparent, I'm barring down like a
When the is at steak, I'm Astros
My god level lyricism flows
I'm much than fast flows,
Money talk flows,
Great as the numbers at shows

Fuck that rap this that trap shit (Bobby)
This is my contraption (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 sports cars yeah I some (ayy)
Thought you never flex get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't really know where I come
Talking that shit, I'm a for it (what's good)
Tell me what you know about me right now
I want I get it somehow

Fuck trap shit this that rap shit
Give me the hand like the Baptist
Ready to whip it I in the catcher
Greatest alive like I'm
I put 'em all in they
They can't see me get this
I'm a bastard that mastered the flow and of y'all ready for this massacre though
Fuck what had absent though
Matter of it's not impossible but highly improbable like
Saying the police isn't
But I'm liable to walk up into a station in blue
fuck the police!
Blue lives a race
Fuck whoever this rap shit was never a race
This a marathon
you motherfuckers and carry on
Claiming that you really ya shit
You got your Jim 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 trap shit (Bobby)
This world is my (Bobby)
I was and raised in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk shit get son (Bobby)
I don't know why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got (ayy)
Couple sports cars yeah I bought (ayy)
Thought you never Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't really know where I come
Talking that shit, I'm a for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know me right now
I want I get it somehow