Luyện nghe bài hát Bloody Money Pt. 2

intro: Noreaga

Yo, New Orleans, LA, Va to Queens, I-95, we never drive clean
But good, get out the hood, to really make it, now we kick it
Until our whole team'll take it to level, another Rolie wit
bezel, like war against God against another devil
Sustainin, now we rim Moschino, niggaz say we it, switched it
Now it's Cristal, 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 that's crashed out, let me that
Just like Stackhouse, kick ya back out, you mad vexed
Like you did your whole bid, but didn't max out, yo is
In other words courageous, South Carolina to D.C.
Yo the NC in Atlanta like Montana, comin out the wit the hammer
Motherfucker, more weed than Chris Tucker, in Friday
When he treated Worm like a sucker, in three
a whole key in three days, the way I know the crack game'll have you

In the ill days, yo I drink Lectaid, is sayin chulo, like Menegay
South side lost royal and royal, grand royale in Ohio, Cincinnati,
Yo from Philly to Connecticut, got settin in, all predicate
Like this rap 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 to stay leavin, hit me on the Nokio
Let me know if you still breathin, top grenade, ice it up, cop pies, it
up
You really think you nice enough, fuck around wit Trice
Even seekin until your world fall in, to my niggaz gettin they props
Where they to've been, don't rush, take your time
The best come to those who wait, like Heinz, they be ketchup and your
keg
Aiyyo I-95, wit my niggaz lost faith, wha!

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

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

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

Mad dime, but never could fit the of his wife
You could tell by the finger nails, clean, hair diced up, every four
A routine, where he lived, stay out the hood, fuck what 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 the truth even when 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 wit a plan
To make it happen, sellin weight or rappin, we still trapped in a slave

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