Luyện nghe bài hát Armoire

For Cuban
Yellow gold, cold, my mink
I'm from the the of old, check out my ring
I won a bowl of hash,I saw the Mona Lisa blink
Not off my ass
Cause I lean the Tower of Pisa on stained glass
At the church, services for this beat
Niggas tryna my style, I can hear 'em in my sleep
Like young outside tryna break in your Z
28 or your Double S, they hit Trans-Am
For your big nose and you know them fools man
And I swear ain't no good, but I'm not surprised
Cause it's all fair in the
Of these bitches due to your street fame
This shit's wicked, deserves a
Deadstocks on my feet, I'm walking history
Niggas is beast hype, tryna be like what we
Ain't nothing but Jet Life

I'm talking in the walls, floors, ceilings
A house made of money, feel what I'm
(Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we chasing)
(Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we chasing)
I'm talking pounds in the fridge, hundred stack in the
Constant reminders of what the fuck we for
(Cause this rap shit my hustle baby, we paper chasing)
(Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we chasing)

at it, Jet Set mathematics
I'm, from the city of choppers and levee crackage
All completed, bitch I'm All-Madden
Smoking out the wagon
It's that "to the airport" action, I am more Mr. 2 Door
Still running triple O on my new hoes
More than one time was I that I was too cold
Gucci Mane, tryna be grizzly burr on these
Foundation laid, and from that, a rose
my driver bring yo bitches home, ask her how that Caddy roll
You can tell that she was daddy, just smell her clothes
Money and smoke, all I know

I'm talking in the walls, floors, ceilings
A house made of money, what I'm building
(Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we chasing)
(Cause rap shit just my hustle baby, we paper chasing)
I'm talking pounds in the fridge, stack in the armoire
Constant reminders of what the fuck we for
(Cause this rap shit my hustle baby, we paper chasing)
(Cause this rap just my hustle baby, we paper chasing)