Luyện nghe bài hát Future

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

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

We the muthafuckin best, to my mama
Ridin' presidential, got me feeling like
'Cause all I want is
And my niggas they the same
I wanted the money and the fame
I into something they never became
all the rain, I kept my flame
And I kept and its my turn and
Real my hood confirm it
Now 6 2's on closed curtains
And that Maybach, let me take em way
When I was starving was payback
where that cake at?
Murder all your
And I, I, I, I can feel love,
But I feel hate
I got that ? I just feel so safe
I put it to mug, you ain't gon' wake
that thing gon' fly
Got a kick, but it ain't no tired
Niggas talk murder, but ain't gon ride
Now we goin' hard 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 they twist and talk with they fingers
Man but this ain't no language
Fresh out of the
This a Detroit fucking from when MM got the masses
Trick Trick got passes
Bitch I'm the Motor, Motor
Yeah that motor be the bitch,
call it Motor City
'Cause you're most to crash (fuck it)
Good thing I got a
broke? No sir!
Bitch I'm the rap stylist,
'Cause I gave the rap style bitch
But I over shine, ain't no niggas over
Toll rollin by the quarter so I we're going overtime.
'Til Dumb high, dumb high
Westside, I run mine
I'm rolling around in my old school, I feel like the
hoes, no strings attached
So ask me why they strung out
I'm like to you niggas
I might even stick my out
She and wobble, bobbled
Then on my throttle
Bitch, I make you my baby
And buy you a bottle
Yo niggas don't ask how the top
When you em' right beside you
My pockets got paper on
This shit just like a novel boy
100 thousand of ice on me now
But it don't feel half as
As grandma saying she's

Forever dedicated, Maybach genius
think they close to seeing me
Tell em they to Stevie
You poser niggas ain't to be here
We believe ya.
Double MG'er, we put a on niggas' careers
We the best,
No need to stress,
there's a lot of artists
But I got the palette
Multiple colors, my mind's more productive others
Murray the winner, he think he
Mandela
That's though.
One time for the 305,
That make me tired, yo
My be so Tai Bo!
My balance be so rope
That's hard to find Tri-Flow
Get With me, that Night flow
Hoes for me, I maestro, shit
That whip sit
Like a slight wrist
Suicide shit, you can by shit if you write this
Nigga and this minute, they say I'm buzzing hard
My driver's out of this world, you bumper cars.
You under-cards
You be unemployed
All you smoke is Reggie, I'm in the telly bunch of
Who gon' tell me that I ain't going or I ain't
Folarin, you see them puters
That was my

The towers fell, to Ground Zero
didn't like Reggie Jackson
Nicki their hero
As I play Rothstein, like Rob De Niro
Been through it but here
move with the weirdos
Dress pimpin' the like let's win
on West and 4th, pipes and Mac 6
While me in a Maserati bricking his friends
When I die, tell to turn my coffin to stretch Benz rims on it
Problems? My man's on, see him, we him out
His mouth, our on it
Always smoking a ounce, a mountain, no on it
Spins on it, you have no clout, the on it
What the say?
Few roaches, you spray, on tours, eat straight
Making sure all your feet
Get the pills through, peel SRT-8 truck on, seats gray
Drop tops like dates, Vado