Luyện nghe bài hát Future

I am the streets, the
I you to Ace Hood, Meek Mills
Big Sean, Wale, Vado, the future
They gettin' money, makin' hit records, they hustlin'

Okay now Khaled told me kill 'em, he told me kill 'em
Hundred for the Beamer, for the dealer
Murder, bet I it, Kudos to the killer
Chevy sittin' crooked, teeth on Miller
I'm a beast, see me in your sleep
Nightmare on any street, swear I will any beat
Spread this to the industry, lyrics a chopper piece
Flow through your fitted T, pull this through with chemistry
Hottest nigga 'round, they greatness is my tendency
No thing as sympathy, more money, my remedy
on, heavy D, bitch I'm hot, third degree
Whip I drive? Owned by me, and neck, anti-freeze
Can it be? I'm who you to be'
Last of a dying breed, I'm
Twin pistol shooter nigga a 7B
Big dog, get it, you still on your
Yeah, fly nigga some stupid swag
Dead keep my money in the body bag
And the G-U-T-T-A, hops in the and I gotta get paid
Fuck bitches, ain't trying to get laid
Walk in my you can meet my maid
And you give a damn you can push Lac
Push that Benz on, that 'Lade, hop to the whip
No top on mine, hear a nigga hate, man fuck guys
Real nigga shit, tell no lie
Private plane, my seat recline, top 10 charts, I reside
Got me a ?

We the muthafuckin best, to my mama
presidential, got me feeling like Obama
'Cause all I want is
And my niggas wanted the same
I wanted the and never the fame
I into something they never became
Through all the rain, I my flame
And I kept and its my turn and
Real nigga my hood it
Now it's 6 2's on curtains
And Maybach, let me take em way back
I was starving that was payback
Nigga where that at?
Murder all artists
And I, I, I, I can that love,
But I feel that
When I got that ? I just so safe
I put it to your mug, you ain't gon'
When that thing fly
Got a little kick, but it no tired
talk murder, but they ain't gon ride
Now we hard like I ain't gonna die
Mill!

Do it! OK
Smoke I got no lungs
Got her going down, no
I it "speaking tongues"
Do it! Do it!
Now you speaking my
From where they twist and talk with they
Man but ain't no sign language
Fresh out of the
This a Detroit fucking classic from when MM got the
Trick Trick got passes
Bitch I'm the Motor, Motor
Yeah that motor be the bitch,
They it Motor City
'Cause you're likely to crash (fuck it)
Good I got a chauffeur
Going No sir!
Bitch I'm the rap stylist,
'Cause I gave the rap style bitch
But I over shine, no niggas over Sean
Toll rollin by the quarter so I guess going overtime.
'Til Dumb high, dumb high
Westside, bitch I run
I'm rolling around in my old school, I feel like the
Fucking hoes, no attached
So don't ask me why they out
I'm like Jordan to you
I even stick my tongue out
She and wobble, bobbled
Then on my throttle
Bitch, I make you my baby
And even buy you a
Yo niggas don't ask how the top
When you em' right beside you
My pockets got paper on
This shit just look a novel boy
100 thousand of ice on me now
But it don't feel as good
As grandma saying she's

Forever dedicated, poetic genius
Some think they to seeing me
Tell em close to Stevie
You niggas ain't supposed to be here
We believe ya.
Double MG'er, we put a on niggas' careers
We the best,
No to stress, Khaled
Know a lot of artists
But I got the palette
Multiple colors, my mind's more productive others
the winner, he think he really
Nelson
fire though.
One for the 305, though
That make me tired, yo
My be so Tai Bo!
My be so tight rope
That's to find Quick Tri-Flow
Get rough me, that Night flow
blow for me, I maestro, shit
That white sit
Like a slight wrist
Suicide shit, you can by if you write this shit
Nigga and right minute, they say I'm buzzing hard
My driver's out of this world, you bumper cars.
You under-cards
You should be
All you smoke is Reggie, I'm in the bunch of noise
Who gon' tell me that I ain't or I ain't flowin'
Young Folarin, you see them
That was my

The towers fell, turning to Ground
Kids didn't like Reggie
Barnes their hero
As I Rothstein, Corleone like Rob De Niro
through it but here though
Don't move with the
Dress pimpin' the toast let's win
on West and 4th, pipes and Mac 6
While me in a bricking his best friends
When I die, tell to turn my coffin to stretch Benz rims on it
My man's on, see him, we stomp him out
His mouth, our on it
Always smoking a ounce, a mountain, no on it
Spins on it, you no clout, the Benz on it
What the fiends
Few roaches, you need spray, on tours, eat
Making sure all feet sprayed
Get the pills through, peel SRT-8 truck on, seats gray
Drop like release dates, Vado