Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, out to everybody that worked on the album
You feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty
Shouts out to Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie
out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk
[Verse 1: the Creator]
Big eared bandit is tossin' all his
In a bag and wrappin' them in wrap bandages
'em in baskets with the rest of those sandwiches
So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an
Um, flowin' my pad is the maxiest
My bitch and black like she's been mimickin' a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in
Then kicking all out like Mr. did Pamela
Put her in the all against her Wilt Chamberlain
I had a Reason, nigga I was just Ableton
Not a Logic contradictin' dick head
Flyer than an ostrich in a tar pit
Semen scented cheetah tee
In that 'Preme panel, I'll repeat it for the season
Previous in the present
With the normal ass like I cheated on my team
me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To have some of knowledge that is one perception
But knowin' you own opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is
Smiles of cowards in lead showers, dead in red blouses
Children who fled houses on Mustang and went joustin'
I'm on my Hood shit, robbing in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm stealin' your
diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot
And salute the troop when you shoot you gon' poop
KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my stoop
And out my aid, Juice
3: Left Brain]
got the juice, I got the gin
got the Henny, my nigga we get it in
Wolf Gang party at the
I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the tell
You know Brain need a freak
I need a bitch to go down a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
be surprised if I ask where the hash at
Nigga I'm tryna smoke, bitch get
Domo where Flocka Flame? Talking 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or shoot me
Cause if you don't salute me then my team will do the
Yeah my nigga Ace pull the black jack
The king Mike G is in the cut the black mac
Living like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to up
And if these haters acting up, throw 'em in the
my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much
But two bad bitches in of me cunnilingus
[Verse 4: G]
What the is caution?
Often I leave you flossing and cause next to coffins
in translation, the dreams you chase
Got you diving for the plates like you stealing home
That's great, I'm alone dreaming of two on ones
Rihanna and Christina Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the closet and hanging the tramp
Three that Ace has been making him
No strays while we catching matinees,
I'm getting blazed thinking 'bout those
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, all's fair when pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
To the game like bitches to their rings
And you don't even need to look cause we obscene
In the light, ride slow to my yellow diamond
Like the Batman over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em Mike G" I got 'em
One man squadron, nigga I'm a
Briggs I got bars and plans to
Pimp these Polish into pop stars
kills, we all suffer from insanity still
And if I said it then it is or it's gonna be
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
[Verse 5: Domo
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby popped
With my other snobby bop, do I love prolly not
your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Cock
I've been runnin' blocks a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal with the water
Now I'm all grown, songs just to give 'em watts
Fire what I talk, but still cooler an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck shit in your wish
Mad shit, mad dick for your bitches
On slick shit, your mistress on my hit list
And I'm lifted 'til I'm stiff out of bitch
Odd in mothafuckin' area
Blood give me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big wave ya
Tyler got the mask like he held Jim up
And fuck your team, ho nigga
Wolf Gang so you know we not no fucks
You me dog, I'm a chill in the cut so I can
Cut it short, break it down, pounds, roll it up

Get me a Persian rug where the center like Galaga
[Verse 6: Frank
a super car for a day
Drive around with your friends, a gram of that haze
Bro, on the ounce, that's a lot for a day
But just for a week, my nigga what can I say
I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I I'm straight
I'mma give you this wine, the runner just brought the
My brother it some time, Morris, and Day
Course you know the vibe's as fly as the
On the song, cut and you could sample the
bleed, make this shit sound real
Used to the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and psychics was liars
Now, how many fucking balls can I buy and own
Humble old me had to flex for the
Down in Muscle Beach pumping iron and
Bumping oldies off my cellular
Yeah, bumping oldies off my cellular

Goddammit, this is stupid and it's hard
do it over and over and over again but here I go
[Verse 7: Dolphin]
Hey it's Jasper, not a rapper
Only on this beat to make my grow faster
Got a TV show, so I I'm an actor
Pot head, half baked, lookin' Chappelle
Rollin' up a blunt with fire from hell
Still ignorant, hit a bitch
Gang, nigga, so I still don't give a shit
Catch me in the back Miley on my lap
Bong as I feel on that little bitch cat

Hah, came through with a 9 bar real quick
Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my
it, Wolf Gang
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, that, look, for contrast is a pair of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' fires to whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' All-American
Crushin' rapper to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I just a year Ferrisin'
And a little sanity to show you what hysterics is
to the lips meet the bottom of a barrel
So that piss flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might impair him
I made it back to Fahrenheit, get dinero type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, pack of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof after
La di da di, back in to fuck the party up
fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from fuckin' awesome
Call him 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra
Vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a until the hole was numb
The culprit of the punch
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' inside a stolen truck
Shittin' his colon bust
full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm rollin' over the
I'm through the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is
Stay gold 'til the case closed and the end
Post mortem this rap shit and record it
To it to the morgue again, lord of lips
Bored of this, the tippy top, best under 40 list
the gate, ensurin' the bass
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker in torso and face
Get at me with savages, have a of Apache
Indian pack of niggas who don't give a if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, your swagger is
So see me you like Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi
Back like passin'
With that mothafuckin' gladiator of rappin'
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
Fall back if paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, that's all I got
From my brother Frankie to my little brother Tac
From that figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding down 'Fax, Wolf run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the lettering on lettermans and cotton socks
And tape...and my shoes
Um, I was 15 when I first that donut
5 later, for our label yea we own it
I an empire, I ain't even old enough
To a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
This is for the in the suburbs
And the white kids with nigger who say the n-word
And the ones got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't acting
Always try to turn our fucking into black and white
But they'll change 'em, never understand 'em
Radical's my anthem, my fucking amps up
So of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck
Just admit, not only are we talented, rad as fuck, bitches

OFM, on your FM
Gnaw, 2011, yeah, Wang