Luyện nghe bài hát What You Sayin

(Chorus)
Hit you with no delaying so you saying yo
Ni**as ain't paying so I been laying low
I'm all about famo Marlin Brando
My bi**h go commando, I'm in though
I hit you ammo, as a Lambo
I play with her hole like flipping channels
And my bi**hes is too live Luther Campbell
And I'm spitting s**t though like I chew tobacco
(Verse)
shimmy ya shimmy yay
I'ma kick a in his mouth
stick a semi in his mouth, kissy face
I'ma lose the weight in the drought, Lake
put get the white and put it out, Em & Dre
I'ma f**k her and her mom, Kim & Ye
They respect all my artistry Hemingway
And they respect all of my
That's why they me space muthaf**ka
Know you see what's up in my hand so you sayin wo
Cause I put yo f**king brains all on the
You not in my f**king lane you on the crash
And you feeling leap I'm kidnapping yo tadpoles
I can't remember the bi**h I f**ked after my last show
When I say my cash low I'm just telling a bad
hair dont care, no shirt like Fabio
Little ni**a dread locks with a with an afro
Oooh Ahh, I got you all in
I make her (Ooh Ahh) and now she on my
I'm my
We riding on set
And we can shoot out it's quiet on the set
Boo ya like Stu and peace up where he rest
Bitch I'm groundbreaking and I'm baby steps
I'm about to bust a rhyme, nod yo and break ya neck
I'ma kill these motherf**kas, you ain't dead, fake ya
I ain't playing, hit you with no delaying and I ain't paying ho
I come through me and my woes like
is a what? Gucci falling from the sky
Let's get rich what? Boy, I been rich 1995
you been boy
Money and I'm about to send a invoice to them boys
Yea I'm tried of this
I'm I'm too lit
I aim at yo toothpick, yo brains in yo boot tips
Yeah, I'm tied up and fair, put some on yo head
Now they can't find your body, the sack in the bed
is it, boy, you done dug yoself a hole
That's a pit, boy, that's s**t, boy
Uh, type of a ni**a that'll you with the tooley-oh
It ain't about what you smoke, it's about who you
My Hoody, yo, he real moody, yo
I him no bullet folks, he still do it tho
They give you a funeral, you be viewable
When come thru the door, them hoes get super soaked
Now do you wanna party with me?
Let me whatcha got fo me
Aye, do you really wanna with me?
In we trust! Puffing on that stuff, eyes low than..hungs
They don't f**k with us cuz they know that we not the
Boy, we got them guns, get a s**t out from none
Yo, it's young money, my ni**a, you we bout to bust
And everybody armed, more than Octopus
Write my on my cups, so ni**a know not to touch
Every time I bust a rhyme, another one the dust
Tunechi!