Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to that worked on the album
You feel me, son? Yo, out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Ocean
out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk
[Verse 1: the Creator]
Big eared is tossin' all his manners
In a bag and wrappin' them in seran bandages
'em in baskets with the rest of those sandwiches
So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an
Um, flowin' my pad is the maxiest
My bitch white and black like been mimickin' a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in
Then kicking all out Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all her Wilt Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, nigga I was Ableton
Not a fuckin' contradictin' dick head
Flyer an ostrich moshin' in a tar pit
Semen cheetah printed tee
In that 'Preme five panel, I'll repeat it for the
items in the present
With the normal ass past like I on my team
It's me (Tried to get nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To have some type of knowledge is one perception
But knowin' you own opponent is a defeatin' bonus
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage 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, in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and pet, I'm stealin' your rings
Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the boot
And salute like the troop you shoot you gon' poop
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 Gang party at the
I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the hoes
You know Left need a freak
I need a to go down like a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
be surprised if I ask where the hash at
Nigga I'm smoke, bitch get higher
Domo where that Flocka Flame? '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 Mike G is in the cut with the mac
Living like the Mafia, bitch, get to slacking 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 in front of me cunnilingus
[Verse 4: G]
the fuck is caution?
Often I you flossing and cause exes next to coffins
in translation, the dreams you chase
Got you diving for the plates 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 organizing and hanging the tramp
Three lettermans Ace has been making him
No strays we catching matinees, huh?
I'm blazed thinking 'bout those days
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, all's fair when pays
My grand scheme of is to be attached
To the game like bitches to wedding rings
And you even need to look cause we gleam obscene
In the light, ride slow to my diamond shining
Like the Batman logo 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 bitches into pop stars
kills, we all suffer from insanity still
And if I said it then it is or gonna be real
OF I OD and I probably will, uh
[Verse 5: Domo
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy
With my other snobby bop, do I love prolly not
Know your shit is not as hot as anything I drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Macaulay
I've been runnin' since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal the water Glocks
Now I'm all grown, sing just to give 'em watts
Fire 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 slick shit, your mistress on my hit
And I'm lifted 'til I'm stiff out of bitch
Odd in mothafuckin' area
Blood clots give me 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 Gang so you know we not giving no
You know me dog, I'm a in the cut so I can
Cut it short, it down, couple pounds, roll it up

Get me a Persian rug where the center looks like
[Verse 6: Frank
a super car for a day
Drive around with your friends, smoke a 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 mean I'm
I'mma you this wine, the runner just brought the grapes
My brother give it time, Morris, and Day
Course you know the as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you sample the feel
Headphone bleed, this shit sound real
to work the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and them was liars
Now, how many fucking balls can I buy and own
Humble old me had to flex for the
Down in Muscle Beach pumping iron and
Bumping oldies off my phone
Yeah, oldies off my cellular phone

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

Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar real
Just for the bitches, little bit of in my pocket
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' All-American
Crushin' larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I just spent a Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to show you hysterics is
Spit to the lips the bottom of a barrel
So that sterile piss flow remind these niggas embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, impair him since
I it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, wearin' of parasites
Threw his own youth off the roof after
La di da di, back in here to fuck the up
Raidin' fridges, tippin' vases with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it rain hockey
And 60 day chips from fuckin' awesome
Call him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow
Off the loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra clutch
bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it a stick until the hole was numb
The of the potent punch
Scoldin' hot as dunkin' in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' drunk inside a stolen
Shittin' like his colon
Belly full of and a fifth of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm rollin' over the
I'm roamin' through the forest and cold as the porridge is
Stay gold 'til the case closed and the end
Post mortem porkin' this rap and record it
To it to the morgue again, lord of lips
Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, best 40 list
the gate, ensurin' the bass
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker sore in and face
Get at me with savages, have a pack of
Indian pack of niggas who don't a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, your is tacky
So see me you can't Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi
Back like passin'
With that mothafuckin' gladiator of rappin'
As an addict I let and Xannies relax me
back if your paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: the Creator]
OF, that's all I got
From my bigger brother Frankie to my little Tac
From that figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding down 'Fax, Gang run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the lettering on lettermans and cotton socks
And grip tape...and my
Um, I was 15 I first drew that donut
5 years later, for our yea we own it
I started an empire, I even old enough
To drink a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off this pop
This is for the niggers in the
And the white kids with nigger 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 ain't right
Always try to turn our color into black and white
But they'll never change 'em, understand 'em
Radical's my anthem, turn my fucking up
So of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck
admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

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