Luyện nghe bài hát Whoa

Nah, no, nah, nah, fuck
Niggas cause you fucking made "Chum"
And got all that niggas won't go back
to that old fucking 2010 shit talking 'bout
fucking all
No, fuck nigga, I got you, fuck that

mittens who have to spit blizzardous
Actually cigarette ash at bitch niggas
Harassment, ate nickels of hash, delay quick, and
Dash to Saint Nicholas pad to taste
Still in the of smacking up little rappers with
you play tennis with, hated for bank lifting and
Spraying hotter wind in the shade of his maimed innocence
Suitcase scented with haze and filetted
Advanced apathy, smashing the man up
Tan khakis, an Dan-dappered up
Vagabond, had it a Padawan
Rapping hot as fucking cattle brands flannel thongs
a bong, momma and some food, beer, tag along
Get a spanking, new Sears catalog
Send them critics to the bezzle stop, dead and wrong
Get 'em higher than the pitch of tea kettle songs

Four deep in a cannon
Riding through a Saugus canyon, niggas know that it's the


50 K for the check
But the Dollar Menu still be on deck, nigga it's the

Yeah, the misadventures of a
Pissed as Rick Ross's sip off his sixth lager
Known to sit and wash the off at the pitch alter
Hat never backwards the print off legit manga
Get it? Like a blue pill, make ya longer
Or a swift fist off your from his wrist launcher
Chick, chronic thrift shopper, like the Knicks roster
Stormed off and came back like pigs' posture
Naw, probably written with some used syringes
From out the bin at your local loony clinic
Watching movies in a room of goons he rented
On the for clues, more food, and some floozy women
Bruising with the broom he usually use for Quidditch
writtens, scoot 'em to a ditch, chewed and booty scented
Too pretentious, do pretend like he could lose spitting
Steaming tubes of and twisted doobies full of euphemisms
Stupid, thought it up, jot it quick, out
Toss it right like a vodka fifth
Spot him on a swapping dollars in for pocket lint
Then lob a wad of at a copper on some Flocka shit

Posing try to disrespect
Get a fucking thunder to his neck, out to Nak, cause it's the


Looking bummy, posted on the block, looking I ain't make
A quarter off of socks, nigga, cause it's the