Luyện nghe bài hát Seems 2 Be

WHO'S DAT, DAT, WHO'S DAT
The is flying,
OG, hustler, gangster player, hardcore mother fucker,
today, to be honest
I'm totally and on his dick!

And you this MAN

It's the return of Rascal,
Dem boy na yet, trend make a never set,
Inside outside, outside
dat, start dat, get dat
Yo, you know, going on going on stank,

Roll deep on these, put these Mc's on freeze,
Hit these, wit and rip these,
like rusko, come flip these,
So please don't write these,
Fearless, angry, MC's,
Don't Christine's or Brittany's,
Allow us off; take him with keys,
And one strictly for pickneys,
Old school dry wineys,
Barclays. Halifax, and these,
Headless gunshots, you these,
Trick these, CID E,
Touch mc's, drop like freeze,
haters get chop like trees,
a boy rascal, to a boy miseries,

It to be cars and cash and girls and peds,
And manners on flame, keep higher for them fame,
It seems to be phones and and raves and weed,
And player for for the hour, and the boys will make you bleed,
It seems to be V and M and gold and
We roll deep for the money; we don't want to your cash,
It seems to be love and war and and life,
Harsh life, life, fog life, street life,

So far clean,
Take his trace, to aunt Maureen,
Get live, get get seen,
Dizzy run , like
Keep vigilant, on grant,
We chuck at Scotland Yard
Retard gets kick real hard
Live get threat to your card
Oh my days is he like
Dizzee come
Dizzee don't might
World web, dot slash eat end,
don't com jack your girlfriend,
Co dot uk and last
Deaf kick slash dot holler
frasier lyrical tank,
Dizzee come fresh on stank

It seems to be cars and and girls and peds,
And manners on flame, keep higher for them fame,
It seems to be phones and and raves and weed,
And player for them for the hour, and the boys make you bleed,
It to be V and M and gold and Nike

We roll for the money; we don't want to take your cash,
It to be love and war and hate and life,
Harsh life, life, fog life, street life,

dong its on,
Fake mcs to sing my song,
You want to test up bring it on,
take me for a mo no that's wrong,
Hit with a ge con do,like key do blow,
Leave bullet in your moskeno clothes,
Hot like weathery grow, gonna come the hole

Back, front, inside, out,
Dizzee run a flow to make a boy out,
Six foot you can never climb out,
I smoke dat weed till my mum out,

Front, back, outside, in
Bear folk sipping on jing-sing
making not doggy styling
In a dark park, when the dark in

It seems to be cars and and girls and peds,
And manners on flame, them higher for them fame,
It seems to be phones and and raves and weed,
And player for for the hour, and the boys will make you bleed,
It seems to be V and M and gold and
We roll deep for the money; we want to take your cash,
It seems to be love and war and and life,
Harsh life, hustle life, fog life, life,

I have the feeling you love me.