Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, shout out to everybody that on the album
You me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, out to L-Boy Awk
1: Tyler the Creator]
Big eared is tossin' all his manners
In a bag and wrappin' in seran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em in baskets the rest of those sandwiches
So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks an accident
Um, flowin' like my pad is the
My bitch white and black like been mimickin' a panda
It's the skinned nigga, kissin' bitches in Canada
Then all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all against her Chamberlain
I had a Reason, nigga I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' Logic dick head
Flyer than an moshin' in a tar pit
Semen cheetah printed tee
In that 'Preme panel, I'll repeat it for the season
items in the present
With the ass past like I cheated on my team
me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Beats]
To have some type of knowledge is one perception
But knowin' you own your opponent is a bonus
I'm to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge 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 shit, robbing in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm your rings
Coke and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot
And salute like the troop when you you gon' poop
KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my stoop
And out my Kool aid,
[Verse 3: 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 Brain need a
I need a bitch to go down like a beat
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 Flocka Flame? Talking 'bout a
Still bang salute me or just me
if you don't salute me then my team will do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the jack
The king G is in the cut with the black mac
like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up
And if haters acting up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
Free my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for
But two bad bitches in front of me
4: Mike G]
What the is caution?
I leave you flossing and cause exes next to coffins
Lost in translation, the dreams you
Got you diving for the plates you stealing home base
That's great, I'm home alone of two on ones
With Rihanna and Milian, bring it on
And is in the closet organizing and hanging the tramp
Three lettermans Ace has been making him
No strays while we matinees, huh?
I'm getting blazed thinking 'bout those
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, fair when crime pays
My grand scheme of things is to be
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 yellow shining
Like the Batman logo over Gotham, rock LA to
If you say "Get 'em G" then I got 'em
One man squadron, nigga I'm a
From Briggs I got bars and to
Pimp these Polish bitches into pop
Humanity kills, we all suffer from still
And if I said it it is or it's gonna be real
OF 'til I OD and I will, uh
[Verse 5: Domo
still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy popped
With my other snobby bop, do I love prolly not
Know your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin'
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, Macaulay Cock
been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a big deal with the water
Now I'm all grown, songs just to give 'em watts
Fire what I talk, but still cooler an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck shit in wish list
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 area
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 nigga
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, break it down, pounds, roll it up

Get me a Persian rug where the center like Galaga
[Verse 6: Frank
Rent a car for a day
around with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze
Bro, on the ounce, that's 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 just the grapes
My give it some time, Morris, and Day
Course you know the as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you sample the feel
Headphone bleed, make this sound real
to work the grill, fatburger and fries
Then I made a mil and psychics was liars
Now, how many crystal balls can I buy and own
Humble old me had to for the fogs
Down in Beach pumping iron and bone
Bumping oldies off my cellular
Yeah, bumping oldies off my cellular

Goddammit, rapping is stupid and it's hard
Gotta do it over and and over again but here I go
[Verse 7: Dolphin]
Hey it's Jasper, not even a
Only on beat to make my racks grow faster
Got a TV show, so I guess I'm an
Pot head, half baked, like Chappelle
Rollin' up a blunt that fire from hell
ignorant, still hit a bitch
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 little bitch cat

Hah, nigga through with a 9 bar real quick
Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my
Fuck it, Wolf
8: Earl Sweatshirt]
Yeah, that, look, for contrast is a pair of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' to sheriffs whips
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' terrorist
Crushin' larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
And me? I spent a year Ferrisin'
And lost a little sanity to show you hysterics is
Spit to the lips meet the bottom of a
So that piss flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, impair him since
I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get type
Feral, ill apparel, wearin' 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' vases with a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa it rain hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from fuckin' anonymous
Call him bloated 'til he show 'em the flow deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Loko, and a cobra clutch
Vocals bold and rough, a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and it with a stick until the hole was numb
The culprit of the punch
Scoldin' hot as scrotum in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' inside a stolen truck
Shittin' like his bust
Belly full of and a fifth of old petroleum
Supernova, I'm rollin' over the
I'm roamin' through the forest and spittin' as the porridge is
Stay gold 'til the case closed and the end
Post mortem porkin' rap shit and record it
To escort it to the morgue again, lord of
of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list
Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker sore in and face
Get at me savages, have a pack of Apache
pack of niggas who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a of fact, your swagger is tacky
So see me you can't like Crunchy Black a taxi
Back lateral passin'
With mothafuckin' gladiator manner of rappin'
As an addict I let Percocet and Xannies me
Fall back if your is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: Tyler the
OF, that's all I got
From my bigger brother Frankie to my brother Tac
From that figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding down 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fucking
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same on lettermans and cotton socks
And tape...and my shoes
Um, I was 15 when I first drew donut
5 later, for our label yea we own it
I an empire, I ain't even old enough
To a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop
This is for the niggers in the
And the white kids with nigger friends who say the
And the that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
Cause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Spielberg
say we ain't acting right
Always try to turn our fucking color into and white
But they'll never 'em, never understand 'em
Radical's my anthem, my fucking amps up
So instead of critiquing and bitching, being mad as
Just admit, not are we talented, we're rad as fuck, bitches

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