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
Im all about my decimals
Retarded in the booth, they say I got a flow
Sicker than average, you rappers is ass backwards
spit crack, and you niggas is crack addicts
The simple
You cut the and I rake in the green, like Im rakin the grass in
Pretty bitches damn near feint when they
Call my whip Martin but the first Aston
Potato head niggas get mashed Im spazzin
Think you fucking with me put your in
Nah I it
I was and reckless when Pete say he was about it
You niggas is Ducks, Howards,
the competition and shower niggas with flowers
This rap shit is
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, Uptown in it
Hollygrove menace
Black clothes, tennis
semi,
Ive never sat in
would offend me
Try Maybach or
I got stacks, yeah
Paychecks on
And I still want
And I dont play that
I on ASAP
And you dont do but get money all day
Put some shoes on my bullets now they your way
YM Young Mula, Money all day
the drugs so sweet, like honey on yay
Which one of yall say, you want Im honoured
I blitz your ass, like a muthaficking
of paychecks, with a whole bunch of commas
Still red, like a old 49er
Fuck shittin on ya, dump the toilet on ya
Wee-Weezy F Baby bitch, I'm hotter Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama make me to make homies
She made me to history
So thats my Extra-curicular activity
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
Your whip up to date, and your hoes look 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
the club with ya girl, send her home with an ashy face
Love is a gamble, but its my
that your the loser, I hope that she got aveno
I hope the 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, all they do is eat margarine
Millz!

(Tyga)

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