Luyện nghe bài hát Bloody Money Pt. 2

intro: Noreaga

Yo, New Orleans, LA, Va to Queens, I-95, where we never clean
But good, gotta get out the hood, to make it, now we kick it
Until our whole team'll take it to level, another Rolie wit
Another bezel, like war God against another devil
Sustainin, now we rim Moschino, niggaz say we it, switched it
Now Cristal, instead of Mistic, Jose, catch me wit a pigeon and
A biscuit, gettin mad lifted, let me find out, it's sellin dimes
Out my crack house, yeah crashed out, let me catch that
like Stackhouse, kick ya back out, have you mad vexed
Like you did your whole bid, but max out, yo Jose is
In other words courageous, South Carolina to D.C.
Yo the NC in like Montana, comin out the airport wit the hammer
Motherfucker, smoke weed than Chris Tucker, in Friday
When he treated Worm like a sucker, in three
Sell a whole key in three days, the way I know the game'll have you

In the ill days, yo I drink Lectaid, Jose is sayin chulo, Menegay
South lost 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 if they still treatin
The of the game is just to stay leavin, hit me on the Nokio
Let me if you still breathin, top grenade, ice it up, cop pies, slice it
up
You really think you nice enough, around wit Trice Allah
Even seekin scrolls your world fall in, to my niggaz gettin they props
Where they supposed to've been, rush, take your time
The come to those who wait, like Heinz, they be ketchup and spoil your
keg
it's I-95, wit my niggaz lost faith, wha!

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

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

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

Mad dime, but never fit the shoes of his wife
You could tell by the finger nails, clean, hair diced up, four days
A weekly routine, where he lived, stay out the hood, fuck a nigga say
Out for blood, but yo, the dough, he see snake smile 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, double your size, either come wit a
To make it happen, sellin weight or rappin, we still trapped in a slave

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