Luyện nghe bài hát Warm It Up

You, you
Warm it up, it up
it up, warm it up, warm it up
Warm it up, it up
Warm it up, warm it up, it up

This that Young Sinatra shit, yeah this that Young Sinatra
Shut the fuck up and whenever your Sinatra spit
Yeah girl as fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick
Hey Bobby how can you tell? She on a Young dick
All these rappers wack as fuck, make the Sinatra sick
RattPack be the squad, that's that Young clique
God damn, this the Young Sinatra clique, God
Listen, yeah, I'm the realism in my life and actuality
Stuck to me yeah this shit is my galaxy
I am who the be
I'd rather be at
be glad to be me
Magnify the shit like
Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in person they never
Come to the hood and fuck you up if you prefer to be
I'm local, Noho, to Soho,
Getting G's I'm Frodo, you know ho I'm
Blessed like Sunday, flyer than a
Little Bobby second guess that he goin' make it one day
One wake, or my brother word to your mother
should give me a badge cuz I'm always under-covers

God I'm a miraculous man
You I get, I get it, I get it, I get it
They out to spit it, rewind it and rip it
I can murder your whole with a 30 second snippet
Pass the Mary Jane I'm running a train with Peter Parker
Until I have more sex in the city Jessica Parker
The deeper and I go it get darker
They say the the old me, the want the Young Sinatra back
The one that it, rip it up
Never gonna give it up around an
Yeah I'm all of that, fall back, like again
Basking rappers so hard that they won't remember again
When it comes to Hip Hop, bitch I'm indigenous to
apparent, I'm barring down like a parent
When the beef is at steak, I'm
My god level surpass flows
I'm much more fast flows,
talk cash flows,
Great as the numbers at past

Fuck that rap shit this trap shit (Bobby)
This world is my (Bobby)
I was and raised in the trap son (Bobby)
shit get kidnapped son (Bobby)
I don't know why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got (ayy)
Couple sports cars yeah I bought (ayy)
Thought you never flex get it done (ayy)
don't really know where I come from
Talking that shit, I'm a for it (what's good)
Tell me you really know about me right now
Everything I I get it somehow

Fuck that trap this that rap shit
Give me the hand John the Baptist
Ready to it I hoove in the catcher
Greatest alive like I'm
I put 'em all in caskets
They can't see me get this
I'm a bastard that mastered the and none of y'all ready for this massacre though
Fuck what Logic had absent
Matter of fact it's not impossible but highly improbable
Saying the police robbable
But I'm liable to up into a station in blue face
Like the police!
Blue lives ain't a
Fuck whoever this rap shit was never a race
This a marathon
Murder you and carry on
Claiming that you really 'bout ya
You got your Jim on, "Liar liar"
I might ya
Number one I die
Will never
I am the
I am the God of this
is how we do it
Yeah I this shit, yes I started this shit like

Fuck that rap this that trap shit (Bobby)
world is my contraption (Bobby)
I was and raised in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk shit get son (Bobby)
I don't really why I rap son (ayy)
in the bank, yeah I got some (ayy)
Couple sports cars I bought some (ayy)
Thought you never Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't really know where I from
that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me you really know about me right now
Everything I I get it somehow