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, warm it up, it up

This that Young Sinatra shit, yeah that Young Sinatra shit
the fuck up and listen whenever your Sinatra spit
Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Sinatra chick
Hey Bobby how can you tell? She on a Sinatra dick
All these rappers wack as fuck, make the Young Sinatra
be the squad, that's that Young Sinatra clique
God damn, this the Sinatra clique, God damn
Listen, yeah, I'm visualizing the realism in my life and
Stuck to me yeah this shit is my galaxy
I am who the be
I'd rather be at
Killers be to be me
Magnify the like bifocal
Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in they never vocal
Come to the and fuck you up if you prefer to be local
I'm local, Noho, to Soho,
G's like I'm Frodo, you know ho I'm
Blessed like Sunday, flyer a runway
Little Bobby never second guess he goin' make it one day
One wake, or another my word to your mother
They should give me a badge cuz I'm under-covers

God damn I'm a man
You I get, I get it, I get it, I get it
They out to spit it, rewind it and rip it
I can murder your whole album with a 30 second
Pass the Mary Jane I'm running a train with Peter Parker
Until I have more sex in the city than Jessica
The and deeper I go it get darker
They say the want the old me, the want the Young Sinatra
The one murder it, rip it up
gonna give it up around an almanac
Yeah I'm all of that, fall back, September again
Basking these rappers so hard that they won't remember
When it comes to Hip Hop, 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 flows
I'm much more than flows,
talk cash flows,
Great as the numbers at past

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

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

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