Luyện nghe bài hát Oldie

[Intro:
Yo, out to everybody that worked on the album
You feel me, Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
Shouts out to Domyon, out to Frankie Ocean
Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to Awk
1: Tyler the Creator]
Big eared bandit is all his manners
In a bag and wrappin' them in seran bandages
Tossin' 'em in baskets with the of those sandwiches
So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks an accident
Um, flowin' my pad is the maxiest
My bitch white and black like she's been a panda
It's the dark skinned nigga, bitches in Canada
kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
Put her in the chamber all her Wilt Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, I was just Ableton
Not a fuckin' contradictin' dick head
Flyer than an ostrich in a tar pit
scented cheetah printed tee
In that 'Preme five panel, I'll repeat it for the
items in the present
With the normal ass past like I cheated on my
me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy
To have some type of that is one perception
But knowin' you own your opponent is a defeatin'
I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage is boneless
Smiles of cowards in lead showers, dead in red blouses
Children who fled houses on Mustang horses and went
I'm on my Hood shit, robbing in the hood
Whips, drugs, jewels, and pet, I'm stealin' your rings
Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers the fuckin' boot
And salute like the when you shoot you gon' poop
It's KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my
And out my Kool aid,
3: Left Brain]
got the juice, I got the gin
Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in
Gang party at the hotel
I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the tell
You know Left Brain need a
I a bitch to go down like a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, and her ass fat
Don't be surprised if I ask where the at
I'm tryna smoke, bitch get higher
Domo where that Flocka Flame? Talking a lighter
Still bang salute me or shoot me
Cause if you don't salute me then my team do the shooting
Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the jack
The king Mike G is in the cut with the mac
Living the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up
And if these haters up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
Free my Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much
But two bad bitches in front of me
[Verse 4: G]
What the fuck is
Often I leave you flossing and cause exes next to
in translation, the dreams you chase
Got you diving for the plates like you stealing base
That's great, I'm home alone dreaming of two on
With and Christina Milian, bring it on
And Travis is in the closet organizing and hanging the
Three lettermans that Ace has been him
No while we catching matinees, huh?
I'm getting blazed thinking 'bout days
I had the top off the GT3 toupees
One finger in the air, all's when crime pays
My grand scheme of is to be attached
To the like bitches to their wedding rings
And you don't even need to cause we gleam obscene
In the light, slow to my yellow diamond shining
Like the Batman logo over Gotham, LA to Harlem
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 Polish bitches into pop stars
Humanity kills, we all from insanity still
And if I it then it is or it's gonna be real
OF 'til I OD and I will, uh
[Verse 5: Genesis]
It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby popped
With my other snobby bop, do I her? prolly not
Know your shit is not as hot as I fuckin' drop
Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Cock
I've been runnin' 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 than an Otter Pop
Op Dom neck in your wish list
Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches
On some slick shit, mistress on my hit list
And I'm 'til I'm stiff out of this bitch
Odd in mothafuckin' area
Blood clots me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicide flow, let the big carry ya
Tyler got the like he held Jim Carrey up
And fuck your team, ho wassup
Wolf Gang so you we not giving no fucks
You know me dog, I'm a in the cut so I can
Cut it short, it down, couple pounds, roll it up

Get me a Persian rug where the center looks Galaga
[Verse 6: Frank
Rent a car for a day
around with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze
Bro, easy on the ounce, a lot for a day
But just enough for a week, my nigga can I say
I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I I'm straight
give you this wine, the runner just brought the grapes
My brother it some time, Morris, and Day
you know the vibe's as fly as the rhymes
On the song, cut and you could sample the
Headphone bleed, make this sound real
Used to work the grill, fatburger and
Then I made a mil and them was liars
Now, how fucking crystal balls can I buy and own
Humble old me had to flex for the
Down in Muscle Beach pumping 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 over and over again but I go
7: Jasper Dolphin]
Hey it's Jasper, not even a
Only on this beat to make my racks faster
Got a TV show, so I I'm an actor
Pot head, half baked, lookin' like
Rollin' up a blunt with that fire hell
Still ignorant, hit a bitch
Wolf Gang, nigga, so I don't give a shit
Catch me in the back Miley on my lap
Bong rips as I feel on that bitch cat

Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar real
Just for the bitches, bit of money in my pocket
Fuck it, Gang
[Verse 8: Sweatshirt]
Yeah, fuck that, look, for contrast is a of lips
Swallowin' sarapin, settin' fires to sheriffs
(Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' terrorist
Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot
And me? I just spent a year
And lost a little sanity to show you what is
Spit to the lips the bottom of a barrel
So that piss flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might him since
I it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, 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' over vases a tommy gun
Never dollars, make it rain hockey pucks
And 60 day chips from awesome anonymous
him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe
Off the wall loafers, Loko, and a cobra clutch
Vocals and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
And let me hit and beat it with a stick the hole was numb
The of the potent punch
hot as dunkin' scrotum in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drunk inside a stolen truck
Shittin' like his bust
Belly full of chicken and a fifth of old
Supernova, I'm over the novices
I'm roamin' through the forest and cold as the porridge is
Stay gold 'til the case and the story end
Post mortem this rap shit and record it
To it to the morgue again, lord of lips
Bored of this, the tippy top, best under 40 list
Stormin' the gate, the bass
Scorchin' ladies motherfucker in torso and face
Get at me with savages, have a pack of
Indian pack of who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, swagger is tacky
So see me you can't like Crunchy catchin' a taxi
Back lateral passin'
With that mothafuckin' gladiator of rappin'
As an I let Percocet and Xannies relax me
back if your paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: Tyler the
OF, that's all I got
From my bigger brother to my little brother Tac
that father figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks
Shredding down 'Fax, Wolf run the fucking block
Storefront, tat
Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and socks
And tape...and my shoes
Um, I was 15 I first drew that donut
5 years later, for our yea we own it
I an empire, I ain't even old enough
To drink a fucking beer, I'm tipsy off soda pop
This is for the niggers in the
And the white with nigger friends who say the n-word
And the that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd
you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't acting
Always try to turn our fucking into black and white
But they'll never change 'em, never 'em
Radical's my anthem, turn my fucking up
So of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck
Just admit, not only are we talented, rad as fuck, bitches

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