Luyện nghe bài hát Warm It Up

You, you
Warm it up, it up
Warm it up, warm it up, it up
it up, warm it up
Warm it up, it up, warm it up

This that Young shit, yeah this that Young Sinatra shit
Shut the up and listen whenever your Sinatra spit
Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Sinatra chick
Hey Bobby how can you She on a Young Sinatra dick
All these wack as fuck, make the Young Sinatra sick
RattPack be the squad, that's that Sinatra clique
God damn, this the Young clique, God damn
Listen, yeah, I'm the realism in my life and actuality
Stuck to me fatality yeah this shit is my
I am who the be
I'd be at academy
be glad to be me
Magnify the shit bifocal
Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in person they never
Come to the hood and fuck you up if you to be local
I'm local, Noho, to Soho,
Getting G's like I'm Frodo, you ho I'm
Blessed Sunday, flyer than a runway
Little Bobby never second guess that he make it one day
One wake, or my brother word to your mother
They should give me a cuz I'm always under-covers

God damn I'm a man
You I get, I get it, I get it, I get it
turn out to spit it, rewind it and rip it
I can murder your whole with a 30 second snippet
Pass the Mary Jane like I'm running a with Peter Parker
Until I have more sex in the than Jessica Parker
The deeper and I go it get darker
They say the want the old me, the the Young Sinatra back
The one murder it, rip it up
Never gonna give it up an almanac
I'm all of that, fall back, like September again
Basking rappers so hard that they won't remember again
When it to Hip Hop, bitch I'm indigenous to this
This apparent, I'm barring down like a
the beef is at steak, I'm Astros
My god level lyricism surpass
I'm much more fast flows,
Money talk flows,
as the numbers at past shows

Fuck that rap this that trap shit (Bobby)
This is my contraption (Bobby)
I was born and in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk shit get son (Bobby)
I don't know why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, I got some (ayy)
Couple sports cars yeah I bought (ayy)
Thought you flex Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all really know where I come from
that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know about me now
Everything I want I get it

Fuck that shit this that rap shit
Give me the like John the Baptist
to whip it I hoove in the catcher
Greatest like I'm Cassius
I put 'em all in caskets
They can't see me get this
I'm a bastard mastered the flow and none of y'all ready for this massacre though
Fuck what Logic had absent
Matter of fact it's not but highly improbable like
Saying the isn't robbable
But I'm liable to walk up into a station in face
Like the police!
Blue lives ain't a
Fuck whoever said this rap shit was a race
This a marathon
Murder you motherfuckers and on
Claiming you really 'bout ya shit
You got your Jim on, "Liar liar"
I might ya
Number one I die
Will never
I am the
I am the God of shit
is how we do it
Yeah I this shit, yes I started this shit like

Fuck that rap this that trap shit (Bobby)
This world is my (Bobby)
I was and raised in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk shit get son (Bobby)
I don't really why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got (ayy)
Couple cars yeah I bought some (ayy)
Thought you never Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't really know where I from
Talking that shit, I'm a for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know about me now
Everything I I get it somehow