Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to everybody that on the album
You feel me, son? Yo, out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Ocean
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to Awk
1: Tyler the Creator]
Big eared bandit is tossin' all his
In a bag and wrappin' in seran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em in with the rest of those sandwiches
So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an
Um, like my pad is the maxiest
My bitch and black like she's been mimickin' a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' in Canada
Then kicking all out Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all her Wilt Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' contradictin' dick head
Flyer than an moshin' in a tar pit
Semen scented printed tee
In that 'Preme five panel, repeat it for the season
items in the present
With the normal ass past like I on my team
It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Wang)
[Verse 2: Beats]
To have some of knowledge that is one perception
But knowin' you own opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartridge is boneless
Smiles of cowards in showers, dead spouses in red blouses
Children who houses on Mustang horses and went joustin'
I'm on my Hood shit, robbing in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm stealin' your
Coke and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot
And salute like the troop when you you gon' poop
KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my stoop
And out my Kool aid,
[Verse 3: Brain]
got the juice, I got the gin
Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in
Wolf Gang party at the
I call a ho, you a ho, and all the hoes tell
You know Left Brain need a
I need a bitch to go down like a Nitty
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be surprised if I ask the hash at
Nigga I'm tryna smoke, get higher
Domo where that Flame? Talking 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or shoot me
Cause if you don't salute me then my will do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace pull the black jack
The king Mike G is in the cut with the mac
Living the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking 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 front of me
[Verse 4: G]
the fuck is caution?
Often I leave you flossing and cause next to coffins
Lost in translation, the dreams you
Got you diving for the plates you stealing home base
great, I'm home alone dreaming of two on ones
With and Christina Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the closet organizing and the tramp
Three lettermans Ace has been making him
No strays while we catching matinees,
I'm getting thinking 'bout those days
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, all's fair when crime
My grand of things is to be attached
To the game like bitches to wedding rings
And you don't even need to look we gleam obscene
In the light, ride slow to my diamond shining
Like the logo over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em G" then I got 'em
One man squadron, I'm a problem
From Briggs I got and plans to
Pimp these bitches into pop stars
Humanity kills, we all suffer insanity still
And if I it then it is or it's gonna be real
OF 'til I OD and I will, uh
[Verse 5: Genesis]
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy
With my other snobby bop, do I love her? not
your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Macaulay
been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
Big was a big deal with the water Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing songs to give 'em watts
Fire what I talk, but still than an Otter Pop
Op Dom shit in your wish list
Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches
On some slick shit, your on my hit list
And I'm lifted 'til I'm out of this bitch
Odd in your area
Blood clots give me five feet I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big carry ya
Tyler got the mask like he held Jim up
And fuck your team, ho wassup
Gang so you know we not giving no fucks
You know me dog, I'm a in the cut so I can
Cut it short, break it down, couple pounds, it up

Get me a Persian rug where the center looks Galaga
6: Frank Ocean]
Rent a car for a day
around with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze
Bro, easy on the ounce, a lot for a day
But just enough for a week, my nigga can I say
I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I mean I'm
I'mma give you wine, the runner just brought the grapes
My give it some time, Morris, and Day
you know the vibe's as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you could the feel
Headphone bleed, this shit sound real
Used to work the grill, fatburger and
Then I made a mil and them was liars
Now, how many fucking crystal can I buy and own
old me had to flex for the fogs
Down in Muscle Beach pumping iron and
Bumping off my cellular phone
Yeah, bumping off my cellular phone

Goddammit, this is stupid and it's hard
do it over and over and over again but here I go
[Verse 7: Jasper
Hey it's Jasper, not a rapper
on this beat to make my racks grow faster
Got a TV show, so I guess I'm an
Pot head, half baked, lookin' like
Rollin' up a blunt with that fire from
ignorant, still hit a bitch
Wolf Gang, nigga, so I still don't a shit
Catch me in the with 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, bit of money in my pocket
it, Wolf Gang
[Verse 8: Earl
Yeah, fuck that, look, for contrast is a of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) All-American terrorist
Crushin' rapper larynx to 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I just spent a year
And lost a little sanity to show you what is
Spit to the lips the bottom of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow remind these niggas where is
Narrow, line, might impair him since
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 here to fuck the up
Raidin' fridges, tippin' over vases with a gun
Never dollars, poppa make it rain pucks
And 60 day chips fuckin' awesome anonymous
Call him 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a clutch
Vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to as drum
And let me hit and it with a stick until the hole was numb
The culprit of the punch
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' scrotum in a cup
Or Nevada, drivin' drunk inside a truck
Shittin' like his colon
Belly full of chicken and a of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm rollin' the novices
I'm roamin' through the forest and 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, forklift the tippy top, best under 40
Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker in torso and face
Get at me with savages, a pack of Apache
Indian pack of niggas who don't a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, your swagger is
So see me you can't like Crunchy Black a taxi
Back lateral passin'
With that mothafuckin' gladiator manner of
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
Fall back if paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, shit all I got
From my bigger brother Frankie to my little Tac
From that father figure Clancy to skatey nigga Naks
Shredding 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and socks
And grip tape...and my
Um, I was 15 I first drew that donut
5 later, for our label yea we own it
I started an empire, I ain't even old
To a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
is for the niggers in the suburbs
And the white kids with nigger who say the n-word
And the that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was into jazz, cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't acting
Always try to turn our fucking color into and white
But they'll never change 'em, never 'em
Radical's my anthem, turn my amps up
So instead of critiquing and bitching, being mad as
admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

OFM, banging on FM
Gnaw, 2011, yeah, Golf