Luyện nghe bài hát Who Want It?

(Big out to The Alchemist)

I'm the most cold blooded, flooded, iced out, star studded
Fly like the ghost of who died cause the coke it
Clean like that Maz' that I got in my
that ride rides up (Ahhhh), you gon' know it's not a Mazda
I zone than you cause I exercise with my hoes
But my trigger got it's own regiment
I'm so like Ne-Yo I got my own medicine, I do my own edits
C'mon, you if your ain't got no echo, let go you ain't a star
I let go and like petrol into your car
Put your stunner on fix your eyes to look at me
I'm standin but still but yeah my is doin a y-twist
Why the fuck spend so much on those - why wouldn't we?
Plus I'm of niggas talking bout what I shouldn't be (yeah)
Put the tools to 'em put the in gear
Then, sing the blues to 'em let them things through 'em (blao)
Believe you me I be at ease, you weak niggas will bleed
Better breathe, you might it
That's the resume nigga, it seem roomy?
it read long? Don't my name got a ring to it?
Like a tone padded after King Comb
Adam Eve, battle rappin, tabernacle song
That's cause I'm a natural, like I'm lightin matches
I could west, south, or bite the Apple
Psychopathic, when he on the it's like it's magic
The city on his just like his jacket (Woooo!)
The gats that we got extensions attachments
Put away pencils and pens if you rappin
You ain't gotta write rhymes you could have 'em all in head
I'll read 'em off the when you dead (yeah)
Most lyrical I am in a with none
Compare me to If it ain't the notorious one I'm buryin you
Cause squeezing ain't shit, my guns be speakin to like Steven A. Smith
And believe me they spit, you want
I put up them number season that's the reason they sick (keep goin)
I pop a lot of bologna, the parkin lot I shot up your homie
I rocked a lot of Prada, lot of
We only rock once and give 'em to my niggas (uh huh)
While you still cleanin yours and stickin your in 'em (yeah)
Im just a hot nigga, them glock givin you riga'
Broadway and I'm all day like a slicker
You bigger than me I get you, I'm so shist'
I ghost write if I I could let Diddy dis you (keep goin)
through your like the six is a tanker van
Have them killers up to the scene like the anchorman
And they'll you the news without the down payment
Up comin was slain but he is now famous (uh huh)
Etch out you, blow chest out you
Next album no need to know the bout you
While you in the air killed hoverin' there chillin (What you doin?)
In the Hilton in fuckin with Paris Hilton (Damn!)
Your little bo at the reading goodbyes
I'm blowed by a hoe in a Via Dubai
To prove my I did my dirt, the most you can do to the ghost is kill my curse
The most you can do to me now is my work
You still can't touch it I'm dope, just my verse (keep goin)
My thought process is all twisted
The raw shit I thought of came awe disses (yeah)
The object of narcissism the weapon
I start guessin 'em all guess I'm autistic
Preach! Nigga my speech is reachless, by any livin creature
Any way meet you (yeah), anywhere I'll beet you (yeah)
Bed time to headline or anywhere I (uh huh)
Niggas tryin to hit nickel up to do songs (Naw)
Last one done it still pissed I pooped on him (hahahaha)
Made a writer's burst cause I looped on him
Oh (seven), Royce Da 5'9" nigga who it?

Nobody!
(Royce Da 5'9"... The Bar Exam... Pay attention)