Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

Yeah, Ok Im leanin to the left, fla-flag in my pocket
Star Treck fly, unidentified flying
Extraterrestrial Im all about my
Retarded in the booth, they say I got a special
than your average, you rappers is ass backwards
Gudda spit crack, and you niggas is addicts
The simple
You cut the check and I rake in the green, like Im rakin the in
Pretty damn near feint when they passin
my whip Martin but the first name Aston
Potato head niggas get mashed Im spazzin
you fucking with me put your cash in
Nah I it
I was young and reckless Pete say he was about it
You niggas is Ducks, Howards,
Kill the competition and shower niggas with
rap shit is ours
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back in it
Black menace
Black clothes, tennis
semi,
Ive sat in Hemi
would offend me
Try or Maybach
I got stacks, yeah
Paychecks on
And I still want
And I still dont that
I kill on
And you dont do shit but get all day
Put some on my bullets now they runnin your way
YM Young Mula, Young all day
Where the drugs so sweet, like on yay
Which one of yall say, you want drama Im
I blitz your ass, like a muthaficking
Stack of paychecks, with a bunch of commas
Still wear red, a old 49er
Fuck shittin on ya, dump the toilet on ya
F Baby bitch, I'm hotter than Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama aint me to make homies
She me to make history
So doing thats my activity
boy, and the Target is the Industry
Two things I Love in the World, Head and Victory
You aint doing it big and stop kidding me
Your whip aint up to date, and your hoes look Mr. T
This is Misery, no Cathy
Come at me sideways, my slap ya straight
Yeah, Im a Big Joker so you know I your ace
Leave the club with ya girl, her home with an ashy face
Love is a gamble, but its my
Pretend that your the loser, I hope that she got
I the game got life insurance cause Ima kill it
And all you wack ass rap dying with it
Im so harlem, but still starving
Pockets fat as fuck, all they do is eat margarine
Millz!

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
up the notch
Burn the song a Stove-Top
Its licking hot
His flip cause the nigga flop
My shit hit, the pitch was soft
cotton balled
She dropped drawers she poppin off
Her cross guard, but, I dont stop at all
I smash in the car, fuck the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who wanna it done
The rocky shit we up on
Shittin on em like hay in the
Hey wait they say talks
And, man you speak at all
You shop at
My style two thumbs up, like analogues
I shit, for the recognition bitch
as my witness, say envision
I bore you flame flicker
I pictures
Tyga skin drippin