Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

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

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, Uptown in it
Hollygrove menace
clothes, Black tennis
semi,
Ive sat in Hemi
That offend me
Try or Maybach
Bitch I got stacks,
on Paychecks
And I still payback
And I still dont that
I kill on
And you dont do but get money all day
Put some shoes on my bullets now they runnin way
YM Young Mula, Young all day
Where the drugs so sweet, honey on yay
Which one of say, you want drama Im honoured
I blitz ass, like a muthaficking lineman
Stack of paychecks, a whole bunch of commas
Still wear red, a old 49er
Fuck shittin on ya, dump the whole on ya
F Baby bitch, I'm hotter than Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama aint make me to homies
She made me to make
So doing thats my Extra-curicular
boy, and the Target is the Industry
Two things I Love in the World, Good Head and
You aint doing it big and stop kidding me
whip aint up to date, and your hoes look like Mr. T
This is Misery, no Bates
at me sideways, my money'll slap ya straight
Yeah, Im a Big Joker so you know I your ace
Leave the club with ya girl, her home with an ashy face
Love is a gamble, but its my
that your the loser, I hope that she got aveno
I the game got life insurance cause Ima kill it
And all you wack ass rap dying with it
Im so harlem, but still 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 song a Stove-Top
Its licking hot
His pitch flip cause the nigga
My shit hit, the pitch was soft
Niggas cotton
She dropped drawers she poppin off
Her cross guard, but, I dont stop at all
I smash in the car, fuck the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who make it done
The rocky that we up on
Shittin on em hay in the barn
Hey wait say money talks
And, man you speak at all
You at mini-malls
My style two thumbs up, like analogues
I wreck shit, for the recognition
Jesus as my witness, say
I you niggas flame flicker
I pictures
Tyga skin drippin