Luyện nghe bài hát Bloody Money Pt. 2

intro: Noreaga

Yo, New Orleans, LA, Va to Queens, I-95, where we never drive
But good, gotta get out the hood, to really it, now we kick it
Until our team'll take it to another 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 gold biscuit, gettin mad lifted, let me find out, it's dimes
Out my crack house, yeah that's crashed out, let me that
Just like Stackhouse, kick ya out, have you mad vexed
Like you did whole bid, but didn't max out, yo Jose is
In other courageous, from South Carolina to D.C.
Yo the NC in Atlanta like Montana, comin out the wit the hammer
Motherfucker, smoke more weed than Tucker, in Friday
When he treated like a sucker, in three ways
Sell a whole key in 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 royal and royal, grand royale in Ohio, Cincinnati, Minnesoto
Yo Philly to Connecticut, got niggaz settin in, all predicate
Like this rap game is pregnant, N-O-R-E,
for Niggaz On the Run Eatin, no matter if they still treatin
The object of the game is 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, fuck around wit Allah
Even scrolls until your world fall in, to my niggaz gettin they props
Where they supposed been, don't rush, take your time
The best come to those who wait, Heinz, they be ketchup and spoil your
keg
Aiyyo it's I-95, wit my niggaz faith, wha!

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

Aiyyo, eatin from the same plate, and drinkin from the cup
Whoever thought that some would have to change
I went to games as a Knicks fan, had Strickland, they traded him
Ever since then, son, I hated them, shit's turnin in the N-Y
Half the hurt, still niggaz get high and rock Queens shirts
Feinds on the block know me for holdin b's
Seein chips up in European whips, exceed the speed limit
Tinted up and weed scented, treatin life like the bomb, never slow up
I'm gettin head for being young and vulger, fly
niggaz die over bitch shit, I got some hoes in the law gettin high
Like Rik Smits, born hypocrit, now and then be on some different shit
directions, my bad, quick 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 soon as he's on, his goons'll respond, he move and fear losin his

Mad dime, but never fit the shoes of his wife
You could tell by the finger nails, clean, hair diced up, every days
A weekly routine, where he lived, stay out the hood, fuck a nigga say
Out for blood, but yo, lustin the dough, he see snake for way
In the garden he play, but a true don'll get his proper groove on
He tell the truth even when he lies, give you a fake
Even though his name is Nas, god body, and wide body, rumble for
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 laughin
(That's this life lead to)