Luyện nghe bài hát YM Banger

(Gudda Gudda)

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

(Lil Wayne)

Uh, back 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 want
And I dont play that
I on ASAP
And you dont do shit but get all day
Put shoes on my bullets now they runnin your way
YM Mula, Young Money all day
Where the drugs so sweet, like on yay
Which one of yall say, you want Im honoured
I blitz your ass, like a muthaficking
of paychecks, with a whole bunch of commas
Still red, like a old 49er
Fuck shittin on ya, dump the toilet on ya
Wee-Weezy F Baby bitch, I'm hotter Uganda
Ughhh!!!

(Jae Millz)

Ma-Mama aint me to make homies
She made me to make
So doing my Extra-curicular activity
Bulldozer boy, and the Target is the
Two things I Love in the World, Good Head and
You aint doing it big and stop kidding me
Your whip aint up to date, and hoes look like 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, send her home an ashy face
Love is a gamble, but its my
Pretend that the loser, I hope that she got aveno
I hope the game got life insurance Ima kill it
And all you wack ass rap niggas dying it
Im so harlem, but still starving
Pockets fat as fuck, like all they do is eat
Millz!

(Tyga)

Say-Say-Say, Put the
Say,Put the in the pot
Crank up the
Burn the song a Stove-Top
Its licking hot
His pitch flip cause the flop
My shit hit, the pitch was soft
cotton balled
She drawers cause she poppin off
Her cross guard, but, I dont stop at all
I in the car, like fuck the fucking law
I bet daddy gone, who wanna make it
The shit that we up on
Shittin on em like hay in the
Hey wait say money talks
And, man you speak at all
You shop at
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
Tyga skin drippin