Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

Yeah, Ok Im leanin to the left, in my right pocket
Star Treck fly, unidentified objects
Extraterrestrial Im all my decimals
Retarded in the booth, they say I got a special
Sicker than average, you rappers is ass backwards
Gudda crack, and you niggas is crack addicts
The simple
You cut the and I rake in the green, like Im rakin the grass in
Pretty bitches damn near feint when they
Call my whip but the first name Aston
Potato head get mashed when Im spazzin
you fucking with me put your cash in
Nah I it
I was young and reckless Pete say he was about it
You niggas is Ducks, Howards,
the competition and shower niggas with flowers
This rap shit is
Gudda, Bitch!

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, Uptown in it
Black menace
Black clothes, tennis
semi,
Ive never sat in
would offend me
Try or Maybach
I got stacks, yeah
Paychecks on
And I still payback
And I still play that
I on ASAP
And you do shit but get money all day
Put some shoes on my bullets now runnin your way
YM Young Mula, Young all day
Where the so sweet, like honey on yay
Which one of yall say, you want drama Im
I blitz your ass, like a lineman
Stack of paychecks, with a whole of commas
Still red, like a old 49er
Fuck on ya, dump the whole toilet on ya
Wee-Weezy F Baby bitch, I'm hotter than
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

aint make me to make homies
She made me to history
So doing thats my activity
boy, and the Target is the Industry
Two things I in the World, Good Head and Victory
You aint doing it big and broke kidding me
Your whip aint up to date, and your hoes look Mr. T
is Misery, no Cathy Bates
Come at me sideways, my money'll ya straight
Yeah, Im a Big so you know I smash your ace
Leave the club with ya girl, her home with an ashy face
Love is a gamble, but its my
that your the loser, I hope that she got aveno
I hope the game got life insurance Ima kill it
And all you wack ass rap dying with it
Im so harlem, eating but starving
Pockets fat as fuck, all they do is eat margarine
Millz!

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
up the notch
Burn the from a Stove-Top
Its finger hot
His pitch flip cause the nigga
My shit hit, like the pitch was
cotton balled
She drawers cause she poppin off
Her cross guard, but, I dont stop at all
I smash in the car, like the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who make it done
The rocky that we up on
Shittin on em like hay in the
Hey wait they say talks
And, man you dont at all
You at mini-malls
My style two thumbs up, like using
I wreck shit, for the bitch
as my witness, say envision
I bore you niggas flame
I melt
skin aint drippin