Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to everybody that on the album
You me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, out to Frankie Ocean
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to Awk
[Verse 1: the Creator]
Big eared bandit is all his manners
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' like my pad is the
My bitch white and black she's been mimickin' a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, bitches in Canada
kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the all against her Wilt Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' contradictin' dick head
Flyer an ostrich moshin' in a tar pit
Semen cheetah printed tee
In that five panel, I'll repeat it for the season
Previous in the present
the normal ass past like I cheated on my team
It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To some type of knowledge that is one perception
But you own your opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is boneless
Smiles of cowards in showers, dead spouses in red blouses
Children who fled houses on Mustang and went joustin'
I'm on my Robin 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 like the troop when you you gon' poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my
And out my Kool aid,
3: Left Brain]
got the juice, I got the gin
Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in
Wolf Gang at the hotel
I call a ho, you a ho, and all the hoes tell
You know Left Brain a freak
I need a bitch to go down like a beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be surprised if I ask where the at
Nigga I'm tryna smoke, get higher
where that Flocka Flame? Talking 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or just me
Cause if you don't salute me then my team do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the black
The king G is in the cut with the black mac
like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up
And if these haters up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
Free my Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much
But two bad in front of me cunnilingus
4: Mike G]
What the fuck is
Often I leave you flossing and cause exes to coffins
in translation, the dreams you chase
Got you diving for the plates like you home base
That's great, I'm home dreaming of two on ones
With and Christina Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the closet organizing and hanging the
Three that Ace has been making him
No strays we catching matinees, huh?
I'm getting thinking 'bout those days
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, all's fair crime pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
To the game like bitches to their wedding
And you even need to look cause we gleam obscene
In the light, ride slow to my yellow shining
Like the Batman logo Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em Mike G" I got 'em
One man squadron, I'm a problem
From Briggs I got bars and to
Pimp these Polish into pop stars
Humanity kills, we all suffer from insanity
And if I it then it is or it's gonna be real
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
[Verse 5: Domo
It's Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy popped
With my other snobby bop, do I love prolly not
Know shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, Macaulay Cock
I've been blocks since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal with the Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing songs just to 'em watts
what I talk, but still cooler than an Otter Pop
Op Dom shit in your wish list
Mad sick shit, mad dick for bitches
On some slick shit, mistress on my hit list
And I'm lifted 'til I'm out of this bitch
Odd in your mothafuckin'
clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big wave ya
Tyler got the mask like he Jim Carrey up
And fuck team, ho nigga wassup
Gang so you know we not giving no fucks
You me dog, I'm a chill in the cut so I can
Cut it short, break it down, couple pounds, it up

Get me a rug where the center looks like Galaga
[Verse 6: Frank
Rent a car for a day
Drive with your friends, smoke 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 the grapes
My brother give it time, Morris, and Day
Course you know the vibe's as fly as the
On the song, cut and you could the feel
Headphone bleed, make this shit real
Used to the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and them was liars
Now, how many crystal balls can I buy and own
Humble old me had to for the fogs
Down in Muscle pumping iron and bone
Bumping oldies off my phone
Yeah, bumping off my cellular phone

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

Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar quick
for the bitches, little bit of money in my pocket
Fuck it, Wolf
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for is a pair of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, fires to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' All-American
Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot
And me? I just spent a Ferrisin'
And lost a sanity to show you what hysterics is
Spit to the lips meet the bottom of a
So that sterile flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, impair him since
I it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
Feral, ill apparel, wearin' pack of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof after
La di da di, back in to fuck the party up
Raidin' fridges, over vases with a tommy gun
dollars, poppa make it rain hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from awesome anonymous
Call him bloated 'til he show 'em that the deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra
Vocals bold and rough, a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a stick until the was numb
The culprit of the punch
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drunk inside a stolen truck
Shittin' like his colon
Belly 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 and the story end
Post mortem this rap shit and record it
To escort it to the morgue again, lord of
Bored of this, the tippy top, best under 40 list
Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker sore in torso and
Get at me savages, have a pack of Apache
Indian pack of niggas who don't give a fuck if we nasty as
As a matter of fact, your is tacky
So see me you can't like Black catchin' a taxi
like lateral passin'
With that mothafuckin' gladiator of rappin'
As an addict I let Percocet and relax me
Fall back if your is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: Tyler the
OF, that's all I got
my bigger brother Frankie to my little brother Tac
From that father Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
down 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book is the same lettering on lettermans and cotton socks
And grip tape...and my
Um, I was 15 when I first drew that
5 later, for our label yea we own it
I started an empire, I even old enough
To drink a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off soda pop
is for the niggers in the suburbs
And the white kids nigger friends who say the n-word
And the ones that got weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we acting right
Always try to turn our fucking color black and white
But they'll change 'em, never understand 'em
Radical's my anthem, turn my amps up
So instead of 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