Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

Yeah, Ok Im leanin to the left, fla-flag in my right
Treck fly, unidentified flying objects
Extraterrestrial Im all about my
in the booth, they say I got a special flow
Sicker your average, you rappers is ass backwards
Gudda crack, and you niggas is crack addicts
The Mathematics
You cut the and I rake in the green, like Im rakin the grass in
bitches damn near feint when they passin
Call my whip Martin but the first Aston
Potato head niggas get mashed Im spazzin
Think you fucking me put your cash in
Nah I it
I was young and reckless Pete say he was about it
You is Ducks, Howards, Cowards
Kill the and shower niggas with flowers
This rap is ours
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back in it
Hollygrove Black
Black clothes, Black
semi,
Ive sat in Hemi
That would me
Try or Maybach
Bitch I got stacks,
on Paychecks
And I still payback
And I dont play that
I kill on
And you dont do but get money all day
Put some on my bullets now they runnin your way
YM Mula, Young Money all day
Where the drugs so sweet, honey on yay
one of yall say, you want drama Im honoured
I your ass, like a muthaficking lineman
Stack of paychecks, with a whole of commas
wear 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 aint make me to homies
She made me to make
So doing 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 hoes 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 smash ace
Leave the club with ya girl, send her home 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 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
Crank up the
Burn the from a Stove-Top
Its licking hot
His pitch flip cause the nigga
My shit hit, like the was soft
Niggas cotton
She dropped cause she poppin off
Her pussy guard, but, I dont stop at all
I smash in the car, like the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who make it done
The shit that we up on
on em like hay in the barn
Hey wait they say talks
And, man you speak at all
You at mini-malls
My style two thumbs up, using analogues
I wreck shit, for the recognition
as my witness, say envision
I bore you niggas flame
I pictures
Tyga aint drippin