Luyện nghe bài hát Do It Again

Live the 702, y'all know what this is
Ta-ha, God it's Friday
Felt it was right
In you ain't think I could do it again
Oh, I'm a do it
Brooklyn flow, nigga, ha

Throw they up (Yeah)
Throw hands up (Oh)
Throw hands up (Oh)
they hands up (Yeah)

Throw hands up (Yeah)
they hands up (Yeah)
Throw they up (Yeah)
they hands up

1]
You how your boy come through on a Friday
I'm a smooth operator like
put you in your place like valet
But they ain't really about like Wale
Yeah, I talkin' 'bout no album
Time to up, I ain't talkin' 'bout no volume
Crazy up in here, I talkin' 'bout asylums
You talkin' income, then walkin' outs the outcome
You ex on a nigga, I ain't bout no Malcolm
Bird Atlanta, I ain't talkin' 'bout no falcons
No 'Julio' Jones or 'Roddy'
But she could catch it like if her body tight
If she in them Zanottis right
If she stretch it Pilates, right
If she ride it Ducati bikes
But you ain't fuckin' everybody,
You ain't out here bein' thotty,
I mean, I see a lot of whenever I'm in the club
I play my right, grab a dime in the club
Sippin' Ace of Spade, got my nine in the
Cause niggas be tryin' to jack a diamonds in
See, you know how I be, up on IG
Get under they like IV
Check a Internet thug by IP
He ain't guns, all he carry was ID
And, see, now a nigga up
Talkin' quick, in your face, now the switchin' up
How they gon' pray for downfall, then wish they up?

1 a.m., on my way to the
2 a.m., it was up
3 a.m., bad with us
4 a.m., now they with us
5 a.m., at the hours
6 a.m., now we at the
6:15, I be her out
7:15, Uber en
8 a.m.,
1 a.m., I'm gon' do it
We gon', we gon', we gon' do it

2]
How the fuck you gon' talk about emcees on my
all I see is Timb trees on my heels?
New black Spur, Bs on the wheels
up anywhere, Tim D. in your grill
Don't at me on some, 'She still my girl'
I'm rich, boy, I throw some Ds in your
All I be is some G to your girl
Dick in a box from me to your
So, you got a flow, that's with me
I hear the freestyles, that's with me
I see little cars, little jewelries
But none of y'all motherfuckers can with me
You know that funeral spit eulogies
You tryin' to fool a Gs, I'm to fool a G
Put some gas in the game, few for me
You to trick us with a fake chain, foolery
I just hit two mil on the
I should post two mil on the
Get this on if you ever go the fam
I sit on thrones, I sit on benches, fan
Fuck the snakes, I'm ridin' with
When I bring that Dodge Vipe out, piped out
The wave is mine, I never out
If you was countin', you would less to type out
Get money up, hustlin', grindin' zoein', finessin'
Fuck that, everybody, on

Throw they up
Throw they up

Y'all know what it is, DJ Clue
Desert Storm, kid Loso
Bar for bar, best in the game,
I it, uh-huh, live from the 702
That fam
they hands up