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 whole team'll take it to level, another Rolie wit
Another bezel, like war against God against 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 gold biscuit, gettin mad lifted, let me find out, sellin dimes
Out my house, yeah that's crashed out, let me catch that
Just like Stackhouse, kick ya back out, you mad vexed
Like you did whole 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, comin out the airport wit the
Motherfucker, smoke more than Chris Tucker, in Friday
When he treated Worm like a sucker, in ways
Sell a whole key in three days, the way I know the game'll have you

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

2x: Nas (Noreaga)
Blood (That's what this life lead to)
Blood money (That's how my bleed 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 would have to change
I went to games as a Knicks fan, they had Strickland, traded him
since then, son, I hated them, shit's turnin sour in the N-Y
Half the team hurt, still get high and rock Queens shirts
Feinds on the know me for holdin b's work
Seein chips poppin up in whips, exceed the speed limit
Tinted up and weed scented, treatin life the auto bomb, never slow up
I'm head for being young and vulger, fly gifted
Y'all niggaz die bitch shit, I got some hoes in the law gettin high
Like Rik Smits, born hypocrit, every now and then be on some different
Switch directions, my bad, disception
My first love is for bloody money so the extras

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

Mad dime, but never could fit the of his wife
You could tell by the finger nails, clean, diced up, every four days
A weekly routine, where he lived, 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 groove on
He the truth even when he lies, give you a fake name
Even though his is Nas, god body, and wide body, rumble for five
To the S-Class, six niggaz, double your size, come wit a plan
To make it happen, 'cause weight or rappin, we still trapped in a slave

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