Luyện nghe bài hát Zeze (Freestyle)

Ahh,
Joyner!

Yo, saying, "What a great battle"
But you about to see a fucking snake
Boy, you a pony with a pink saddle
I'm truly sorry that you stuck of Drake's shadow
When are you gon' (Huh)
When are you level up?
When are you gon' another foot? (Huh)
When are you gon' us that you number one? (When)
And everything that you accomplished in some years about to take me a couple months
Don't you I'm bluffing neither
I you were tougher, eager (Damn)
How you almost signed to Bieber?
You like a fuckin' beaver (Haha)
Ten years in the game but yo' ass still on the fucking bleachers
Boy, you another diva (Just another diva)
Heard yo' grandmama kicked you out the screaming
"Tory, we fucking need you"
Why yo' daddy up and you? (Why)
I this is how they fucking treat you
And you my puppet, you my Cousin
This ain't what you wanted, they been for it
I'm Lucas, what the fuck you niggas take me for
(What the fuck)
I up in a Demon but I kill Satan for it
If you attention Tory you gon' have to pay me for it
All these love me but you sucker niggas hate me for it
You roll up on me, catch a shot at ya door
The bullets fly, you recline a La-Z-Boy
All you do is cry, you a child, you my boy
You call yourself Tory after The Big (Yeah)
Biggie turning in his grave when he hear yo'
Don't ever that you could ever come compare yo' shit
Little girls and kids ones who feel yo' shit
I skipped the plaques on my way to a
All your records and sweet, niggas think that you candy
Your really convinced you that you think you can scare me
And you got identity issues, think you a tranny, really? (Damn)
Tory tell us why you always gotta lie in rhymes (Why)
I know up with lies can get tiring sometimes
You not a G and deep down you wanna hide
at the sunshine and start crying sometimes
Your real name is Daystar, you been to shine
And when you sing you kinda sound like you dying
You make the type of tracks that had me feelin' inside
take you serious, put all the violence aside
Okay, talk about your plagiarism that you hate to mention (Yeah)
Or talk about the hate you giving to the you dissing
(Let's about it)
And that writer who wrote yo' shit still get paid on that "Don't Die" record
You should go pay the nigga (Yeah, man)
And how the you talk about Kendrick when he a legend (Huh)
Then go bite the nigga on your record right at the ending
On 4AM Flex 2 minutes and 50
Sound exactly like the Art of Peer Pressure, go a listen
You inspired by the niggas you name
Catch fire in the rain, no to shelter you and no rain drops
I seen you on Flex, I gave props
But then we found out you stole Don Q from the train stop
You thought you fly 'til the plane drop
Ugly motherfucker tryna stunt in a top
It's no wonder why used to feed yo' ass with a slingshot
You my son, this the last time I'll give you a Pop
Sit down, you on
And get up until you see me
And don't even think touching that TV
No more video games, no more phone, no 3D
No more radio or boombox for weak ass CD
Matter of fact, give me your back and everything I bought you
You a disgrace to this family and everything I you
I hate to say it son but you me sick
I should'a knew you weren't shit when you out with a baby dick
It's no why you pay for pussy
Tory you think you
All you do is lounge around the house all day like a lazy
Shit, highly disappointed in you son, I need answers
How come you follow in my steps and be a dancer?
Or maybe write a book me or be somebody's grandpa
Instead you wanna be a fucking rapper with some hair
No more rapping, give me pen and paper
No more to the people on how you the biggest gangster
Now up and get your juicy out the refrigerator
You going to bed at o'clock and not a minute later
No, I wanna hear it
No, let be a lesson
Close mouth and go into your room like I suggested
I'm a get real Joe in a second
Matter of fact, give me your toys, I'm adding that to the
I just did a show and got it lit ya nigga
And my freestyles killing your nigga
Couldn't name a bitch I couldn't get ya nigga
You a rebound, even Pippen know nigga
You ain't from Toronto, put on the Bible
I put six hollows in Ferragamo
Nigga, you from Brampton, go spin the
Bitch I'm from New England, me and in the El Dorado
Now get on my level, I'm hard as metal
I the ghetto, I brought the shovel
I bury all of you little ninja
You Donatello, you soft as
You must be off that Amaretto
It's to tell 'cause you soft as pillows
You fucking midget, I you Elmo
I you out a fucking car window
I step all your Margielas, you caught feelings
Yo' heart spinning, my bars
I'm Bob Dylan, I'm Lennon, I'm authentic
bars running no off limits
Don't talk business, talk, listen
I'm off this so you this you fuck! Nigga

What,
Fuck out my face
Ayy look
We gonna get one in,
not, let's not do this back and forth shit no more
I, I think we know up, you know
Ha ha ha,