Luyện nghe bài hát Problem

okay, so, YSL
We're YSL a.k.a. Fly Gang you know
Yeah man, we the Private Fly Gang you know, in bitch

Bitches in love with these slimers, how many
Lil money long as a Greyhound
Smokin' that out the pound
We never lost it, it nothin' to be found
These bitches and go 'round and go 'round
I took the booty, nailed her like a
These bitches gon' me, I call them gowns
Boy that's problem
I fuck up a boy that's your problem
Gettin' distorted lil boy, your problem
No need for abortions, I'll nut on your
Send him up to God with no
Got icin' on icin' on boogers on boogers lil bitch that's my
Boy check out that Rollie it shine a motherfuckin' problem

In a Bentley burnin' loud and I'm
I got hundreds sittin' on hundreds, blue cheese, I'm not ranchin'
I done took off on a boot now I'm Paris Hilton
And I feel like Marilyn Manson and I want a fucking
Pass me that mud, please just pass me mud
Sticky birds, call 'em doves
Implants up under my
Please no-no fallin' in
I'm runnin' 'round with a bitch , mine thick as a cup
Meanwhile they hatin', I done spent me some
And I'mma lie to that ho a rug
money of course
Blat! Cookin' white the Porsches
out to Nelly Air Forces
Hop in that 'ghini ran on your porch
Hop out motherfuck the doors
Yeah, I'mma go ahead and free Offset, yeah he a
(Free nigga)

Bitches in with these slimers, how many now?
Lil nigga money as a Greyhound
Smokin' shit out the pound
We never lost it, it ain't to be found
bitches come and go 'round and go 'round
I the booty, nailed her like a mount
These bitches gon' cover me, I call gowns
Boy that's problem
I might fuck up a boy that's your
Gettin' distorted lil boy, your problem
No need for abortions, I'll nut on your
Send him up to God no problem
Got icin' on icin' on boogers on lil bitch that's my problem
Boy check out that it shine like a motherfuckin' problem

Damn, we gon' try you in these
We G her with no sheets
How ago? 'Bout a week
All my attires are
All of her friends are
I fuck at least three
Can I? (Yeah, sheesh)
He playin'? I pop him like Pop
I'mma demon, only see when
I look I got a Visa card
Private Fly Gang, yeah with us
B's and some C's with us
I that cat bald like an eagle bruh
I ran up my racks ain't no tamin' us
Damn it's Friday, I angel dust
I fuck that if she starin'
up and hop out Mclarens
Don't say I won't 'cause that's
I'll shoot him a bow and arrow
Yeah, my bitch is a motherfuckin' horse with no
Yeah, shoot that bitch one time a double barrel

Bitches in love with these slimers, how now?
Lil money long as a Greyhound
that shit out the pound
We never lost it, it ain't to be found
These bitches come and go and go 'round
I took the booty, her like a mount
These bitches gon' me, I call them gowns
Boy that's problem
I fuck up a boy that's your problem
Gettin' lil boy, that's your problem
No need for abortions, I'll nut on momma
Send him up to God no problem
Got icin' on icin' on boogers on boogers lil bitch my problem
Boy check out that Rollie it shine like a motherfuckin'