Luyện nghe bài hát Black Cards

me
Do you a Afro-American card
What's black card homie

Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching
cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching
Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching
cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching

1
Camron & Hell
(You got for a billion)
What's that, that's the Lear nigga, outta Tito borough
Dipset beats
But it's away, do things the monster way
We'll your beauty queen, snatch ya lean, John Brunei
But that cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching
Ransom, Mel
[Yeah, welcome to Hell's
I got one stove, 2 pots, 4 workers, 2
After this I'm us all new drops
That's right, cha-ching
Let's go, for bling
Pay homage to the chain nigga, kiss the
Damn, we got 'em teary-eyed and
The Porsche tires burn the rubber, the cars smokin']
Man, lean fast, the whip
What you dealing with
Potangrams, damn, we you familiar with
killin', killin', what's poppin' 5, the tools out
They 550, 212, G-mack, out
'em layin', stinkin'
That's the way I'm
New York hustlers love me, like I'm David
right cha-ching cha-ching
That's my talking
Naw, my talking
Nigga, we run New and
I'm your favorite boxer, blossom
Black Aston Martin, but I made it
Add on some pink, I get extra hate
how I deal wit' it, I move extra weight

Cha-ching cha (We the treasurers)
Cha-ching, cha-ching (More registers)
Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching
Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching

2
Cam'ron & Hell
me brother, I'm hard in the gutter
Plus I'm all the toast, but you hoggin' the butter
Oh yeah, pardon me sister, I slept her sister
And the wasn't all that, I left and I ditched her, stupid
That's right, cha-ching cha-ching, spending all 100s
You can be my
Go get my dutches, go get my luggage, it and puff it
In big ass house, I ain't written, I own and I love it]
For my grandmother, cops and
Y'all cannot me
You gettin' gwop, good I'm gettin'
I'm the hockey goalie, action foagies
Wanna me like Billie Joel, rock and roll me
Cuz I'm icy ma, are pricy ma
They like me, I'm hyphy, you in, wifey car
Naw, high-pass, car trash
Ain't a quarter you can kiss our ass

3
Cam'ron & Hell
green, rocks blue, not him, I'm not you
The 550, 100 thou, get too
Flattery, battery bred
charger that I'm coppin' when my batteries dead
They had to be theirs, gunshots, that'll be
For yo' ass, funeral beef, that'll be
They him, I can read your palm
baby don't be alarmed
Vietnam, Dipset, we the
is Ruger Rell, I make the hardest music
I that coke, PCP, embalming fluid
Ratchet here, yeah I know how to use it
Know I do when I use it
in that funeral music