Luyện nghe bài hát What You Sayin

(Chorus)
Hit you with no delaying so what you yo
Ni**as ain't paying so I just been low
I'm all about famo Marlin Brando
My go commando, I'm in command though
I hit you ammo, as a Lambo
I play with her pu**y hole like flipping
And my bi**hes is too like Luther Campbell
And I'm spitting this though like I chew tobacco
(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
f**k her sisters and her mom, Kim & Ye
They respect all my artistry Hemingway
And respect all of my martians
That's why they me space muthaf**ka
Know you see what's up in my hand so you sayin wo
I put yo f**king brains all on the dashboard
You not in my f**king lane you on the course
And you froggy leap I'm kidnapping yo tadpoles
I can't remember the bi**h I f**ked after my last show
I say my cash low I'm just telling a bad joke
Long hair 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 on your set
And we can shoot out till quiet on the set
Boo ya like Stu Scott and peace up where he
Bitch I'm and I'm taking baby steps
I'm about to a rhyme, nod yo head and break ya neck
I'ma kill motherf**kas, you ain't dead, fake ya death
I ain't playing, hit you with no delaying and I ain't paying ho
I come through me and my woes like
This is a Gucci falling from the sky
get rich what? Boy, I been rich since 1995
Where you boy
Money talks and I'm about to a invoice to them boys
Yea I'm tried of bullshit
I'm I'm too lit
I aim at yo toothpick, leave yo brains in yo tips
Yeah, I'm tied up and fair, put guap on yo head
Now they find your body, like the sack in the bed
This is it, boy, you done dug yoself a
That's a pit, boy, white s**t, boy
Uh, type of a ni**a slap 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 tell him no bullet folks, he do it tho
give you a funeral, you won't be viewable
When Tunechi come the door, them hoes get super soaked
Now do you really party with me?
Let me sees got fo me
Aye, do you really wanna with me?
In we trust! Puffing on that stuff, eyes low than..hungs
They f**k with us cuz they know that we not the ones
Boy, we got them guns, get a holing s**t out none
Yo, it's young money, my ni**a, you we bout to bust
And armed, more armed than Octopus
Write my name on my cups, so ni**a know not to
Every time I a rhyme, another one bites the dust
Tunechi!