Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

Yeah, Ok Im leanin to the left, fla-flag in my pocket
Star Treck fly, unidentified objects
Extraterrestrial Im all about my
in the booth, they say I got a special flow
Sicker than average, you rappers is ass backwards
Gudda spit crack, and you is crack addicts
The simple
You cut the check and I rake in the green, like Im rakin the in
Pretty bitches damn near feint when they
Call my whip Martin but the first name
Potato head niggas get 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 and shower niggas with flowers
rap shit is ours
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back in it
Hollygrove menace
Black clothes, tennis
semi,
Ive sat in Hemi
That offend me
Try Maybach or
Bitch I got stacks,
on Paychecks
And I still want
And I still play that
I on ASAP
And you dont do shit but get all day
Put some shoes on my bullets now runnin your way
YM Young Mula, Young all day
Where the drugs so sweet, like on yay
Which one of say, you want drama Im honoured
I blitz ass, like 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 me to make homies
She made me to history
So doing thats my activity
Bulldozer boy, and the is the Industry
Two I Love in the World, Good Head and Victory
You aint doing it big and stop kidding me
whip aint up to date, and your hoes look like Mr. T
This is Misery, no Cathy
Come at me sideways, my money'll slap ya
Yeah, Im a Big Joker so you know I smash ace
Leave the club ya girl, send her home with an ashy face
is a gamble, but its my casino
Pretend that your the loser, I hope that she got
I hope the game got life insurance Ima kill it
And all you ass rap niggas dying with it
Im so harlem, eating but starving
fat as fuck, like all they do is eat margarine
Millz!

(Tyga)

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