Luyện nghe bài hát Bloody Money Pt. 2

intro: talking

Yo, New Orleans, LA, Va to Queens, I-95, where we never clean
But good, gotta get out the hood, to really make it, now we it
Until our team'll take it to another level, another Rolie wit
Another bezel, like war God against another devil
Sustainin, now we rim Moschino, niggaz say we it, switched it
Now it's Cristal, instead of Mistic, Jose, catch me wit a and
A gold biscuit, gettin mad lifted, let me find out, it's dimes
Out my crack house, that's crashed out, let me catch that
Just like Stackhouse, kick ya back out, you mad vexed
Like you did your bid, but didn't max out, yo Jose is
In other words courageous, from South to D.C.
Yo the NC in Atlanta like Montana, out the airport wit the hammer
Motherfucker, smoke more weed than Tucker, in Friday
When he treated Worm a sucker, in three ways
a whole key in three days, the way I know the crack game'll have you

In the ill days, yo I drink Lectaid, Jose is sayin chulo, like
South side royal and royal, grand royale in Ohio, Cincinnati, Minnesoto
Yo from Philly to Connecticut, got niggaz in, all predicate
this rap game is pregnant, N-O-R-E, Nore
Stand for Niggaz On the Run Eatin, no matter if they still
The object of the game is just to stay leavin, hit me on the
Let me know if you still breathin, top grenade, ice it up, cop pies, it
up
You really think you nice enough, around wit Trice Allah
Even seekin scrolls until your world fall in, to my niggaz they props
Where they supposed to've been, don't rush, take your
The best come to those who wait, like Heinz, be ketchup and spoil your
keg
it's I-95, wit my niggaz lost faith, wha!

2x: Nas (Noreaga)
Blood money (That's what life lead to)
Blood money (That's how my niggaz to)
Blood (That's what we smoke weed to)
money (That's how my niggaz eat to)

Aiyyo, eatin from the plate, and drinkin from the same cup
Whoever that some much would have to change
I went to as a Knicks fan, they had Strickland, they traded him
Ever since then, son, I hated them, shit's turnin in the N-Y
Half the team hurt, still niggaz get high and rock shirts
Feinds on the block know me for b's work
chips poppin up in European whips, exceed the speed limit
Tinted up and weed scented, life like the auto bomb, never slow up
I'm gettin head for being young and vulger, fly
Y'all niggaz die over bitch shit, I got hoes in the law gettin high
Like Rik Smits, born hypocrit, every now and be on some different shit
Switch directions, my bad, quick
My love is for bloody money so skip the extras

Now what's a don?, a nigga that's a wit a charm, always on point
As soon as he's on, his respond, he move right and fear losin his

Mad dime, but could fit the shoes of his wife
You could by the finger nails, clean, hair diced up, every four days
A weekly routine, he lived, stay out the hood, fuck what a nigga say
Out for blood, but yo, lustin the dough, he see snake for way
In the same garden he play, but a true don'll get his proper on
He tell the truth even he lies, give you a fake name
Even though his name is Nas, god body, and wide body, for five
To the S-Class, six niggaz, your size, either come wit a plan
To make it happen, 'cause sellin weight or rappin, we trapped in a slave

And keep the crackers
(That's what life lead to)