Luyện nghe bài hát Rusty

Watch me get this money nigga, tired of hungry nigga
Nothing funny, sass me while I'm thrashing, I'ma a nigga
Never of plastic, I'm a savage, you look lunch my nigga
Passing all you hating fags we don't discuss, my nigga
We ain't on no jolly and we don't pop no mollies, bitch
I'm hockin', got some niggas out here poppin' Ollie switch
Buncha novices, odd the squad, its thick
Them young niggas is back and brash, attacking no common sense
We the of a dying breed
And we don't give a fuck, so we cannot supply needs
You stupid who had said our hype is dying, please
My pocket's solid, profit off the highest tees
Bitch, twerk as I get on the verse,
Nigga Dom so cool, I him in third person
me get this money, I'm up when the bird's chirpin'
Make actions, fuck

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time
out at any time, getting money, any grind
You niggas give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have time
Flying out at any time, money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' me mine

In a world kids my age are popping mollies with leather
on tumblr, never outside or enjoying the weather
Can name a sweater, but not a or don't know if whether
Or not they got one, tried to change their life for the
I was a drama club kid, I'd run a fun dip, my nuts itched
I was defiant, said, "fuck shit"
Hated the ones, now I'm the popular one
Also hated homes too, til I coppin' me some
See I don't in the trap, nigga, I beez in the b's
And I be gassin' in my buzz some bees in a shell
Fucking sick and getting bigger like I on Adele
And bitches getting touchy-feely like reading some braille
I bust quick like gun-holders with short tempers, and
I tried to tell the kids, like it, start being yourself
These fucking rappers got stylists, it's they can't think for themselves
See, they don't have an identity, so they needed help, but
Really, boy posers looking boy
I'm in that past 'preme shit, older than Tity Boi
Not a diss, but with ice cream, my shit is (diddy riese)
Na'kel smith transworld 64
like oil, ollies, and fire flames
I'm harder than DJ playing the fucking quiet game
The am I saying? Tyler's not even a violent name
I'm as threatening as stained windbreakers in hurricanes
But he rapes women, and spit wrong, he hate dentists
God menace, 666 and he's not finished
And my shit's missing, he hates women, but kittens
See y'all trippin' man
Look at article that says my subject matter is wrong
I hate gays even though frank is on 10 of my songs
Look at that mom who thinks I'm evil, hold that against me
Though I'm the that her motherfucking son got to eat
Look at the kid who had the 9 and to blow out his mind
But talk is money, I said, "hi," I guess I bought him some
at the ones in the crowd, that shit is barnacles, huh?
They I wasn't fair until I threw a carnival, huh?
But then again, I'm an that just worships Satan
And it's probably why I'm not getting no fucking album
And MTV could suck my dick, and I ain't fuckin'
Bruh, they never it, I just won shit for their fucking ratings
"Analog" are getting sick of the rape
All the Tron Cat fans are sick of the lakes
But what me, bitch? I'm getting sick of complaints
But I don't hate it I'm taking daily trips to the bank
Over and over, shit, who really a fuck what I think?
My fans think turning on me, shit, they're almost extinct
Fuck buying studio time go purchase a shrink
Record the session and all you motherfuckers a link, bitch

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty
Flying out at any time, money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' me mine

Nigga, summer, fall, winter-time,
You niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have time
Flying out at any time, money, any grind
You niggas gon' me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

This just like the nights I look forward to not remembering
So much for being sober, I that you can forgive me
But momma, I'm close to the edge as possible (why don't you you fucking pussy?)
I'm seeing it's a drop in my ocular, jumping like they me
That the half off, like you know that cliff
Don't need a therapist to tell him he could float shit (fucking faggot)
Or get compared to pair with all the program kids
So maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads lick (I'll you)
liquor filling me up, and all us not giving no fucks and
All of them sensitive in awe when that pistol erupts (pistol, I got one!)
one spitting that sumpy raw till his wrists in the cuffs
Bitch (Oh, shut the fuck up!)