Luyện nghe bài hát The Ride

I hate when people say they feel me man, I that shit.
It'll be a long time y'all feel me, if ever

You won't me until everybody
Say they love you, but it's not
And your suit is
And the girl you hates you
And your faded off shots of
What you
Then forget about the that you on top of
Your famous ass keep getting
Thicker the plot does
And you forget her, that's when she pop up
And you got a drop but you ride around the top up
Or get three SUVs for niggas dressed refugees
And deal the questions
all your excessive needs
And you do dinners at French Laundry in Valley
Scallops and glasses of
shit right up your alley
You see a girl and you ask her
Bitches smiling at you, it must be happy
put the cloth across your lap soon as you sat down
It's feeling like you own every you choose to be at now
through airport security with your hat down
Instead of getting a pat down, they keep on
Saying they feel you, nigga

Yeah,
It's been too
way too long

I've faded too long
I've faded too long
I've faded too long
Why won't it The ride
Why won't it The ride

You feel me 'til you want it so bad you tell yourself you're in it
And tell the world around you your paper work is finished
And steal your mothers debit cards so you an image
And ride around in overpriced cars that ain't tinted
You a minute, you got it
You know its real your latest nights are your greatest nights
The sun is up you get home, that's just a way of life
Apartment o three, some couches and paintings
When you record with two others that want the things
Yeah, it start to feel better than feels
And so you up there every night you you getting close
That champagne money was for gas and bills
But shit you bout to spend it on matters most
You drop a songs and hopes that you can beat a nigga
And out every night to let the city see the nigga
Telling stories nobody relate to
And even though they hate you they just keep on telling you they feel ya

I haven't inside terminal one and three in so long
I'm driving right up to it now, make you got your coat on
That runway can be cold especially summers rolled on
And all you knew is alcohol and city and slow songs
For four months out the year, got you asking what's good at home
good at home?
The same hoes are still at it, I known
My young niggas poppin' M's and sippin' dirty
children that all be reppin' Octobers Own
Brand new girl, and she growing
Brand new titties, stitches still
Yeah and she just praying that it heals
I'm bout to fuck and I'm just praying it feels good
I really don't much but shit I know a secret
say more money more problems, my nigga don't believe it
I mean sure there's some bills and I'm still evading
But I blew six million on my self and I feel
Young money maker, season holder
Season over
I come through them still scorching as if I didn't notice
You niggas gettin' older, I see no in Yoda
I'm out messing over the lives of these niggas
That couldn't fuck with my flow
Look at that fucking chip on your nephews
My sophomore I was all for it, all saw it
My Junior and senior only get meaner
Take care

I'm faded, faded, faded, faded (the ride)
Why won't it start the
Why won't it start the
Why won't it ooh the ride?