Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to everybody worked on the album
You feel me, Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, out to Frankie Ocean
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, out to L-Boy Awk
1: Tyler the Creator]
Big eared bandit is tossin' all his
In a bag and wrappin' in seran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em in baskets with the of those sandwiches
So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks an accident
Um, flowin' like my pad is the
My bitch and black like she's been mimickin' a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in
Then kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did
Put her in the chamber all against her Wilt
I never had a Reason, I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' contradictin' dick head
than an ostrich moshin' in a tar pit
Semen cheetah printed 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)
[Verse 2: Beats]
To have some type of knowledge that is one
But you own your opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartridge is boneless
Smiles of cowards in lead showers, spouses in red blouses
Children who fled houses on Mustang horses and joustin'
I'm on my Robin Hood shit, in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and pet, I'm stealin' your rings
diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot
And like the troop when you shoot 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 a ho, you call a ho, and all the hoes tell
You know Left need a freak
I need a bitch to go down like a Nitty
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
be surprised if I ask where the hash at
Nigga I'm tryna smoke, bitch get
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 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 acting up, 'em in the aqueduct
Free my nigga Earl, yo, I don't ask for much
But two bad bitches in front of me
[Verse 4: G]
What the is caution?
Often I leave you and cause exes next to coffins
in translation, the dreams you chase
Got you diving for the plates like you stealing home
That's great, I'm home alone of two on ones
With Rihanna and Christina Milian, it on
And is in the closet organizing and hanging the tramp
Three that Ace has been making him
No strays while we catching matinees,
I'm getting blazed 'bout those days
I had the top off the GT3 like
One finger in the air, all's fair crime pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
To the game like to their wedding rings
And you don't even to look cause we gleam obscene
In the light, ride slow to my diamond shining
the Batman logo over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem
If you say "Get 'em G" then I got 'em
One man squadron, nigga I'm a
From Briggs I got and plans to
Pimp these Polish bitches into pop
kills, we all suffer from insanity still
And if I said it it is or it's gonna be real
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
5: Domo Genesis]
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your mommy popped
With my snobby bop, do I love her? prolly not
Know your shit is not as hot as I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, alone, like Macaulay Cock
I've been runnin' since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal with the Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing songs just to 'em watts
Fire what I talk, but cooler than an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck shit in your wish
Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches
On some shit, your mistress on my hit list
And I'm lifted 'til I'm stiff out of this
Odd in your mothafuckin'
clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big carry ya
Tyler got the mask he held Jim Carrey up
And fuck your team, ho wassup
Wolf so you know we not giving no fucks
You me dog, I'm a chill in the cut so I can
Cut it short, it down, couple pounds, roll it up

Get me a Persian rug where the looks like Galaga
6: Frank Ocean]
Rent a car for a day
Drive 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 what can I say
I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I I'm straight
I'mma give you this wine, the runner brought the grapes
My brother it some time, Morris, and Day
Course you the vibe's as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you could sample the
bleed, make this shit sound real
Used to the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and psychics was liars
Now, how many fucking balls can I buy and own
old me had to flex for the fogs
Down in Muscle Beach pumping and bone
oldies off my cellular phone
Yeah, bumping off my cellular phone

Goddammit, rapping is stupid and it's hard
Gotta do it over and over and again but here I go
7: Jasper Dolphin]
Hey Jasper, not even a rapper
Only on this beat to make my racks grow
Got a TV show, so I I'm an actor
Pot head, baked, lookin' like Chappelle
Rollin' up a blunt with 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 rips as I feel on that little cat

Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar quick
Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my
Fuck it, Wolf
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for contrast is a of lips
sarapin, settin' fires to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' terrorist
Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a carrot stick
And me? I spent a year Ferrisin'
And lost a sanity to show you what hysterics is
to the lips meet the bottom of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow these niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might him since
I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, pack of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof after
La di da di, back in to fuck the party up
Raidin' fridges, tippin' over with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa it rain hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from fuckin' anonymous
Call him bloated he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra clutch
Vocals and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a stick the hole was numb
The culprit of the potent
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' inside a stolen truck
like his colon bust
Belly full of chicken and a fifth of old
Supernova, I'm over the novices
I'm roamin' through the forest and spittin' as the porridge is
Stay gold 'til the case closed and the end
Post mortem porkin' this rap shit and it
To escort it to the again, lord of lips
of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list
Stormin' the gate, the bass
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker in torso and face
Get at me with savages, a pack of Apache
pack of niggas who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, your is tacky
So see me you can't like Crunchy Black catchin' a
Back like passin'
With that gladiator manner of rappin'
As an addict I let Percocet and Xannies me
Fall back if your paddies is Maxi,
9: Tyler the Creator]
OF, that's all I got
From my brother Frankie to my little brother Tac
From that figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding down 'Fax, Wolf run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and cotton
And tape...and my shoes
Um, I was 15 when I first drew that
5 years later, for our yea we own it
I started an empire, I ain't even old
To a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
This is for the niggers in the
And the white with nigger friends who say the n-word
And the that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Spielberg
They say we ain't acting
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 critiquing and bitching, being mad as
Just admit, not are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

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