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 Hodgy Daddies, out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, out to L-Boy Awk
1: Tyler the Creator]
Big bandit is tossin' all his manners
In a bag and wrappin' in seran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em in with the rest of those sandwiches
So when he "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an accident
Um, flowin' my pad is the maxiest
My bitch white and black 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 chamber all against her Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' Logic dick head
Flyer than an moshin' in a tar pit
Semen scented cheetah tee
In that 'Preme five panel, I'll it for the season
Previous items in the
With the normal ass past I cheated on my team
It's me (Tried to get nigga, but, Golf Wang)
2: Hodgy Beats]
To have some type of that is one perception
But you own your opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartridge is boneless
of cowards in lead showers, dead spouses in red blouses
Children who fled houses on Mustang and went joustin'
I'm on my Robin Hood shit, robbing in the
Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm your rings
Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers the fuckin' boot
And salute like the troop when you shoot you gon'
It's KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my
And out my Kool aid,
[Verse 3: Left
got the juice, I got the gin
Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in
Wolf party at the hotel
I call a ho, you a ho, and all the hoes tell
You Left Brain need a freak
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, bitch get
Domo that Flocka Flame? Talking 'bout a lighter
Still bang me or just shoot me
if you don't salute me then my team will do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the black
The king G is in the cut with the black mac
Living like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to up
And if these haters up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much
But two bad bitches in front of me
[Verse 4: G]
What the is caution?
Often I leave you flossing and cause exes to coffins
Lost in translation, the dreams you
Got you for the plates like you stealing home base
That's great, I'm home dreaming of two on ones
With Rihanna and Christina Milian, it on
And Travis is in the closet organizing and hanging the
Three that 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 like
One finger in the air, fair when crime pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
To the game like bitches to wedding rings
And you don't even need to look cause we obscene
In the light, ride slow to my yellow diamond
the Batman logo over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em Mike G" I got 'em
One man squadron, I'm a problem
Briggs I got bars and plans to
Pimp Polish bitches into pop stars
Humanity kills, we all suffer from insanity
And if I said it then it is or gonna be real
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
[Verse 5: Genesis]
It's Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy popped
With my snobby bop, do I love her? prolly not
Know your shit is not as hot as anything I drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, Macaulay Cock
I've runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big with the water Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing just to give 'em watts
what I talk, but still cooler than an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck shit in your wish
Mad sick shit, mad dick for bitches
On some shit, your mistress on my hit list
And I'm 'til I'm stiff out of this bitch
Odd in mothafuckin' area
Blood clots me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big carry ya
got the mask like he held Jim Carrey up
And your team, ho nigga wassup
Wolf Gang so you 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 Persian rug the center looks like Galaga
[Verse 6: Ocean]
Rent a 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 enough 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
you know the vibe's as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you could sample the
Headphone bleed, make this shit real
Used to the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and them psychics was
Now, how many fucking balls can I buy and own
Humble old me had to for the fogs
in Muscle Beach pumping iron and bone
Bumping oldies off my phone
Yeah, bumping oldies off my cellular

Goddammit, rapping is stupid and it's hard
Gotta do it over and 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 guess I'm an
Pot head, half baked, like Chappelle
Rollin' up a blunt that fire from hell
Still ignorant, still hit a
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, nigga came through a 9 bar real quick
Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my
it, Wolf Gang
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
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 feed 'em a carrot stick
And me? I just a year Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to show you hysterics is
Spit to the lips meet the bottom of a
So that sterile piss flow remind these niggas where is
Narrow, tight line, might him since
I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, wearin' of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof after
La di da di, in here to fuck the party up
Raidin' fridges, tippin' vases with a tommy gun
dollars, poppa make it rain hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from fuckin' anonymous
him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a clutch
Vocals and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a stick until the hole was
The culprit of the punch
Scoldin' hot as scrotum in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' drunk inside a truck
Shittin' like his bust
Belly full of and a fifth of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm rollin' the novices
I'm roamin' the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is
Stay gold the case closed and the story end
Post mortem porkin' this rap shit and it
To it to the morgue again, lord of lips
of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list
Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker in torso and face
Get at me with savages, have a of Apache
Indian pack of who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, swagger is tacky
So see me you can't like Crunchy Black catchin' a
Back lateral passin'
With that mothafuckin' manner of rappin'
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
Fall back if paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: Tyler the
OF, that's all I got
From my bigger brother to my little brother Tac
From that father figure to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same lettering on and cotton socks
And grip tape...and my
Um, I was 15 when I first drew donut
5 later, for our label yea we own it
I started an empire, I ain't even old
To drink a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off soda pop
is for the niggers in the suburbs
And the white kids with nigger friends who say the
And the ones that got called weird, fag, bitch,
Cause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Spielberg
They say we acting right
Always try to turn our color into black and white
But they'll never change 'em, never 'em
Radical's my anthem, turn my amps up
So instead of and bitching, being mad as fuck
Just admit, not are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

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