Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

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

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, Uptown in it
Hollygrove Black
Black clothes, Black
semi,
Ive never sat in
That would me
Try Maybach or
Bitch I got stacks,
Paychecks on
And I still payback
And I still dont play
I kill on
And you dont do shit but get all day
Put shoes on my bullets now they runnin your way
YM Young Mula, Young all day
Where the drugs so sweet, honey on yay
Which one of yall say, you want drama Im
I blitz your ass, a muthaficking lineman
of paychecks, with a whole bunch of commas
Still wear red, a old 49er
Fuck shittin on ya, dump the toilet on ya
Wee-Weezy F Baby bitch, I'm hotter Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama aint make me to homies
She me to make history
So doing thats my Extra-curicular
boy, and the Target is the Industry
Two things I Love in the World, Good and Victory
You aint doing it big and broke kidding me
Your whip up to date, and your hoes look like Mr. T
This is Misery, no Cathy
Come at me sideways, my money'll ya straight
Yeah, Im a Big Joker so you know I smash 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 she got aveno
I hope the game got life cause Ima kill it
And all you ass rap niggas dying with it
Im so harlem, but still starving
Pockets fat as fuck, like all they do is eat
Millz!

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
Crank up the
Burn the song a Stove-Top
Its licking hot
His pitch flip cause the nigga
My shit hit, the pitch was soft
Niggas cotton
She dropped drawers cause she off
Her pussy cross guard, but, I dont at all
I in the car, like fuck the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who wanna it done
The shit that we up on
on em like hay in the barn
Hey they say money talks
And, man you speak at all
You shop at
My style two thumbs up, using analogues
I wreck shit, for the recognition
as my witness, say envision
I bore you niggas flicker
I melt
Tyga skin aint