Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

Yeah, Ok Im to the left, fla-flag in my right pocket
Star Treck fly, unidentified flying
Extraterrestrial Im all my decimals
in the booth, they say I got a special flow
Sicker than average, you rappers is ass backwards
Gudda spit crack, and you niggas is addicts
The simple
You cut the check and I rake in the green, like Im the grass in
Pretty damn near feint when they passin
my whip Martin but the first name Aston
Potato head niggas get mashed when Im
Think you fucking me put your cash in
Nah I it
I was young and reckless Pete say he was about it
You niggas is Ducks, Howards,
Kill the competition and shower niggas flowers
rap shit is ours
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back in it
Hollygrove Black
Black clothes, tennis
semi,
Ive sat in Hemi
That would me
Try Maybach or
Bitch I got stacks,
Paychecks on
And I still payback
And I still dont play
I kill on
And you do shit but get money all day
Put some on my bullets now they runnin your way
YM Young Mula, Young all day
Where the so sweet, like honey on yay
Which one of yall say, you want drama Im
I blitz your ass, like a muthaficking
of paychecks, with a whole bunch of commas
Still wear red, like a old
Fuck shittin on ya, the whole toilet on ya
Wee-Weezy F Baby bitch, I'm hotter than
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama aint me to make homies
She me to make history
So thats my Extra-curicular activity
Bulldozer boy, and the Target is the
Two things I in the World, Good Head and Victory
You aint doing it big and stop kidding me
Your whip aint up to date, and your look like Mr. T
This is Misery, no Cathy
Come at me sideways, my money'll slap ya
Yeah, Im a Big Joker so you I smash your ace
Leave the club ya girl, send her home with an ashy face
Love is a gamble, but its my
Pretend your the loser, I hope that she got aveno
I hope the game got life insurance Ima kill it
And all you wack ass rap niggas dying it
Im so harlem, eating but still
Pockets fat as fuck, like all do is eat margarine
Millz!

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
Crank up the
the song from a Stove-Top
Its finger hot
His pitch flip the nigga flop
My shit hit, the pitch was soft
Niggas balled
She dropped drawers cause she off
Her pussy cross guard, but, I stop at all
I smash in the car, like the fucking law
I bet gone, who wanna make it done
The rocky shit we up on
on em like hay in the barn
Hey wait they say money
And, man you dont at all
You shop at
My style two thumbs up, using analogues
I shit, for the recognition bitch
as my witness, say envision
I bore you niggas flicker
I pictures
skin aint drippin