Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

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

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back in it
Black menace
Black clothes, Black
semi,
Ive sat in Hemi
That would me
Try Maybach or
Bitch I got stacks,
Paychecks on
And I want payback
And I dont play that
I on ASAP
And you dont do shit but get all day
Put some shoes on my now they runnin your way
YM Mula, Young Money all day
the drugs so sweet, like honey on yay
Which one of yall say, you drama Im honoured
I blitz ass, like a muthaficking lineman
of paychecks, with a whole bunch of commas
Still wear red, like a old
Fuck shittin on ya, dump the toilet on ya
Wee-Weezy F bitch, I'm hotter than Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

aint make me to make homies
She made me to make
So doing thats my activity
Bulldozer boy, and the is the Industry
Two things I Love in the World, Head and Victory
You aint doing it big and broke stop me
Your whip aint up to date, and your hoes like Mr. T
This is Misery, no Bates
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, send her home with an ashy
is a gamble, but its my casino
Pretend that your the loser, I hope she got aveno
I the game got life insurance cause Ima kill it
And all you wack ass rap dying with it
Im so harlem, but still starving
Pockets fat as fuck, like all do is eat margarine
Millz!

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
Crank up the
Burn the from a Stove-Top
Its licking hot
His pitch flip cause the flop
My shit hit, the pitch was soft
Niggas cotton
She drawers cause she poppin off
Her pussy guard, but, I dont stop at all
I smash in the car, fuck the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who wanna it done
The rocky that we up on
on em like hay in the barn
Hey wait they say talks
And, man you speak at all
You shop at
My style two up, like using analogues
I shit, for the recognition bitch
Jesus as my witness, say
I bore you niggas flicker
I pictures
skin aint drippin