Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

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

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, Uptown in it
Hollygrove menace
clothes, Black tennis
semi,
Ive never sat in
That would me
Try Maybach or
I got stacks, yeah
Paychecks on
And I still want
And I still dont play
I kill on
And you do shit but get money all day
Put some shoes on my bullets now runnin your way
YM Young Mula, Young all day
Where the drugs so sweet, like on yay
Which one of yall say, you want drama Im
I blitz your ass, a muthaficking lineman
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 Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

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

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
up the notch
Burn the from a Stove-Top
Its finger hot
His flip cause the nigga flop
My shit hit, like the was soft
cotton balled
She dropped drawers she poppin off
Her cross guard, but, I dont stop at all
I smash in the car, like fuck the law
I bet daddy gone, who wanna make it
The rocky that we up on
on em like hay in the barn
Hey wait they say talks
And, man you dont at all
You at mini-malls
My style two thumbs up, like analogues
I shit, for the recognition bitch
Jesus as my witness, say
I bore you niggas flame
I melt
Tyga skin drippin