Luyện nghe bài hát Go (Gas) [Explicit]

Fuckin' put on a wrong head, of headphones and shit, uh

took ten shots and I ain't passed out
Spent a hundred grand and I ain't out
If you smoking OG, bring the out
These filled up, bring the gas out
Talkin' 'bout some shit you know you stole
I have my fuckin' way with this game, no control
Drinking on some gin I like alcohol
How the fuck you to win, you don't know how to ball
Turnt up but smoking
Tryna drive but my eyes open
See the cars, see the watch, see I done up
In my condo out watching True Blood
Tryna Taco to the strip club
Tryna take to the dealer bruh (I'm right here guys!)
Tryna Domo to the weed spot
pothead so I need pot

Go, I'm so fuckin'
Pockets and the and all the bitches
'em
Go, and I'm floatin'
I your lungs is open
All the bitches, 'em, go
(Now I been the world before
But I never thought it'd be way
And I smoked up all this weed
But I never it'd feel this way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

shots got me really faded
Kind of famous, enough to laugh like I made it
Drunk enough to stir controversy, bitch let's fucking tape it
I feel amazing, making digits off my cadence
Suck a dick hater I selfie with the Eifel Tower
Five star general, the Odd I'm Eisenhower
Said I couldn't make it, I show you to fight the power
Igniting sour, Chowder in my finest hour
A mix of acid jazz and blue grass
Niggas still stuck in the past, new scabs
Me and Wiz matching nigga, open two tabs
Stumbling out with six models, my order two cabs
We ain't worried 'bout rivals, them too trash
what niggas think, I'm the illest one in the new class
And I don't give a fuck what niggas ain't with
OFWG run with the team or suck a

Go, I'm so loaded
Pockets and the and all the bitches
'em
Go, faded and I'm
I hope lungs is open
All the bitches, 'em, go
(Now I been around the world
But I thought it'd be this way
And I smoked up all this before
But I thought it'd feel this way)
And all the be like, "Yeah"

Guitars sound like Kill Bill shit, watch it
that church tambourine shit
My grandma to play that

Golf

(Turn up)
I got old money, I got new
Put 'em together, I got money
Bank teller call my phone, she me I'm putting on
Twenty years of success, toast to the best
Sip on some Ace then I out the rest
bitches, get ends
Drink gin, their friends
Juicy J three in a white on white Benz
I stay codeine
Blue dream I'm up
Looking for a bitch with bank like Oprah
black diamonds racist, Louis V no laces
My plug on call straight up out the basement
All I know is money, it don't like you
One shot from the make you look like two

Go (Go, go, go, go, go, go, go)