Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

Yeah, Ok Im to the left, fla-flag in my right pocket
Star Treck fly, unidentified objects
Im all about my decimals
Retarded in the booth, they say I got a flow
Sicker than your average, you 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 rakin the in
Pretty bitches near feint when they passin
my whip Martin but the first name Aston
Potato niggas get mashed when Im spazzin
Think you fucking with me put your in
Nah I it
I was young and reckless Pete say he was about it
You is Ducks, Howards, Cowards
Kill the competition and shower niggas flowers
rap shit is ours
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back in it
Black menace
Black clothes, tennis
semi,
Ive sat in Hemi
That would me
Try or Maybach
I got stacks, yeah
Paychecks on
And I still payback
And I still dont that
I kill on
And you do shit but get money all day
Put some shoes on my now they runnin your way
YM Young Mula, Money all day
the drugs so sweet, like honey on yay
Which one of say, you want drama Im honoured
I blitz your ass, like a muthaficking
Stack of paychecks, with a whole bunch of
wear red, like a old 49er
Fuck shittin on ya, the whole toilet on ya
Wee-Weezy F Baby bitch, I'm hotter Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama aint me to make homies
She made me to history
So doing thats my Extra-curicular
boy, and the Target is the Industry
Two things I Love in the World, Head and Victory
You aint doing it big and broke stop me
Your whip aint up to date, and 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
Pretend that the loser, I hope that she got aveno
I hope the game got insurance cause Ima kill it
And all you wack ass rap dying with it
Im so harlem, but still starving
fat as fuck, like 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 flip cause the flop
My shit hit, like the pitch was
Niggas balled
She dropped cause she poppin off
Her cross guard, but, I dont stop at all
I in the car, like fuck the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who wanna make it
The shit that we up on
Shittin on em hay in the barn
Hey wait say money talks
And, man you dont at all
You shop at
My style two thumbs up, using analogues
I wreck shit, for the recognition
Jesus as my witness, say
I you niggas flame flicker
I melt
Tyga skin aint