Luyện nghe bài hát What You Sayin

(Chorus)
Hit you with no delaying so what you yo
ain't paying so I just been laying low
I'm all about like Marlin Brando
My bi**h go commando, I'm in command
I hit you ammo, as a Lambo
I play with her pu**y hole flipping channels
And my bi**hes is too live like Campbell
And I'm spitting this s**t though like I chew
(Verse)
Shimmy ya shimmy yay
I'ma kick a ni**a in his
I'ma stick a semi in his mouth, kissy
I'ma lose the weight in the drought, Lake
I'ma put get the and put it out, Em & Dre
I'ma her sisters and her mom, Kim & Ye
They all my artistry like Hemingway
And respect all of my martians
That's why they give me space
you see what's up in my hand so what you sayin wo
Cause I put yo f**king all on the dashboard
You not in my f**king lane you on the course
And you feeling froggy I'm kidnapping yo tadpoles
I can't remember the bi**h name I f**ked my last show
When I say my low I'm just telling a bad joke
Long hair dont care, no like Fabio
Little dread locks with a d**k with an afro
Oooh Ahh, I got you all in
I make her (Ooh Ahh) and now she on my
I'm my
We on your set
And we can shoot out it's quiet on the set
Boo ya like Stu Scott and peace up where he
Bitch I'm groundbreaking and I'm taking steps
I'm about to bust a rhyme, nod yo head and break ya
I'ma kill motherf**kas, you ain't dead, fake ya death
I ain't playing, I'ma hit you with no and I ain't paying ho
I come through me and my looking like
This is a what? falling from the sky
Let's get rich Boy, I been rich since 1995
you been boy
Money talks and I'm about to a invoice to them boys
Yea I'm of this bullshit
I'm I'm too lit
I aim at yo toothpick, leave yo brains in yo boot
Yeah, I'm tied up and fair, put guap on yo head
Now they can't find your body, the sack in the bed
This is it, boy, you dug yoself a hole
That's a pit, boy, that's s**t, boy
Uh, type of a ni**a that'll slap you with the
It ain't about what you smoke, it's who you smoke
My homeboy Hoody, yo, he moody, yo
I him no bullet folks, he still do it tho
They you a funeral, you won't be viewable
When Tunechi come thru the door, them hoes get super
Now do you really party with me?
Let me sees got fo me
Aye, do you really wanna with me?
In Squad we trust! Puffing on stuff, eyes low than..hungs
They don't f**k with us cuz know that we not the ones
Boy, we got them guns, get a s**t out from none
Yo, it's young money, my ni**a, you know we bout to
And armed, more armed than Octopus
Write my on my cups, so ni**a know not to touch
Every time I bust a rhyme, another one bites the
Tunechi!