Luyện nghe bài hát Whoa

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

Grab mittens who to spit blizzardous
Actually flick cigarette ash at bitch
Harassment, ate nickels of hash, delay quick, and
Dash to Nicholas pad to taste venison
Still in the of smacking up little rappers with
Raquets you play tennis with, hated for lifting and
Spraying that wind in the shade of his maimed innocence
Suitcase with haze and filetted sentences
apathy, smashing the man cameras up
Tan khakis, an antagonist up
Vagabond, had it a Padawan
Rapping hot as fucking cattle wearing flannel thongs
Grab a bong, and some food, beer, tag along
Get a nice spanking, new Sears
Send them nettled critics to the stop, dead and wrong
Get 'em higher than the pitch of metal tea kettle

Four deep in a Rover
dirty through a Saugus canyon, niggas know that it's the


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

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

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


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