Luyện nghe bài hát Hive

Promise Heron put my fist up after I get my dick sucked
Quick buck, maybe a chain
With that flow that s-s-so belittles men
tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished
Stone cold, fucking with these niggas, nigga listen
The description doesn't fit, if not a of menace, then forget it
In turn, these critics and interns the shit spit
It just like six furnaces writ it
It learning them digits, and simultaneously
"Dispelling myths, isn't he?"
One adolescent, fucking six-nigga
And down fax like a rich nigga centipede
Crack ceramic and a hand out of cash account
Stamp and shouting, thrashing, these done let the Kraken out
Crack-a-lackin', like snap, crackle, poppin' ammo off
Hide your face, and your flannels off, Sweatshirt, nigga
(Sweatshirt, nigga)

'87 roof top,
Whipping tryna boost raw chronic
(Brutus in that booth, double scoop, vomit up)
(Sub rocking, thud knocking teeth loose)
Bruh, I fuck with no cop
(Rolling with flow swamp)
Catch me stove top
(Rapping to coke rock)
(Passionless in old Jive
With doors wide open)
(Dim the lights, focused)
it's nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch

From a city recession-hit
With stress niggas could flex metal with, to rake pennies in
Desolate testaments to stay Jekyll-ish
But most niggas Hyde, and Brenda just stay
Breaking news: less important when the Lakers lose
There's lead in that food, heads try to make it through
Fish-netted legs for them that she cater to
dirty as the fucking sky that you praying to
So here I sit, eye in the
God spit it like it's truth serum in beer and then
Disappear again, bearded
On top of a lear, it into the kids' ear again
of the backdrop music
For the rock user and the mascot, Earl
than the skinned knee cap on the blacktop
Salivary glands, lighter fluid for the
Striking, wait, wait, who the you badder than?
Boy oh boy, I'm bad as pollo off the grill and shit
Spitter of the Nick, nimble, rickrolling
Bitch niggas pick litter, piff-blower, plus I pillage

'87 top, Bronson
Whipping hoopties boost raw chronic
(Brutus in booth, double scoop, hock vomit up)
(Sub rocking, knocking niggas teeth loose)
Bruh, I don't fuck no cop
(Rolling with that swamp)
me over stove top
(Rapping to that rock)
(Passionless in old Jive
With them wide open)
(Dim the lights, focused)
Like nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch

Quit with all that talk, bruh, we know you niggas ain't about shit
Come around, we gun 'em down, piled, Auschwitz
outfits, weapons concealed
I'm to kill, so test it, all my weapons is real
thizz, couldn't tell him what the recipe is
Got 'em wishing that never gave these weapons to kids, cheers
Send up spines of fat bitches after
throwing out sandwiches, niggas get it how they
Live and I live for money, other words, I'm getting
boy told me when it's time to ride, they'll send them for me
Ain't nobody scaring me, niggas ain't prepared for
Tools hit like sticks, the way I cue shit
If this was '88, I would signed to Ruthless
Nine-four, would've had them down Death Row
First is when the go, hate is what the rest do
Voice inside my told me, "Wet 'em if they test you"
So it's Raging Waters
yomper big as Larry Johnson, leave your momma seedless
Everybody hard until it's only God seeing
soft but in they songs be trapping hard as Jeezy, I don't believe it
But to each his own, I ain't tripping as I can reach the chrome
Heat your home like California Gas, police pass
Tell 'em "Free Smalls," off with the heat drawn
Strapped up long as the chief for armed
Raised where the beasts are, of the Beach
A couple past Baby J, bony niggas spraying Ks
with the pork face, Jewish for the court case
Here to save you niggas the sorbet, Coldchain

Like it's nothing, cause nothing, bitch