Luyện nghe bài hát Bloody Money Pt. 2

intro: talking

Yo, New Orleans, LA, Va to Queens, I-95, where we never drive
But good, gotta get out the hood, to make it, now we kick it
Until our whole team'll it to another level, another Rolie wit
Another bezel, like war God against another devil
Sustainin, now we rim Moschino, niggaz say we taped it, it
Now Cristal, instead of Mistic, Jose, catch me wit a pigeon and
A gold biscuit, 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 out, have you mad vexed
you did your whole bid, but didn't max out, yo Jose is
In other words courageous, South Carolina to D.C.
Yo the NC in Atlanta like Montana, out the airport wit the hammer
Motherfucker, smoke more 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 crack have you

In the ill days, yo I drink Lectaid, is sayin chulo, like Menegay
South side lost and royal, grand royale in Ohio, Cincinnati, Minnesoto
Yo from Philly to Connecticut, got niggaz in, all predicate
Like this rap game is pregnant, N-O-R-E,
Stand for Niggaz On the Run Eatin, no matter if still treatin
The of the game is just 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 enough, fuck around wit Trice Allah
Even seekin scrolls until your world fall in, to my niggaz gettin they
Where they supposed to've been, don't rush, 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 life lead to)
Blood (That's how my niggaz 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 from the cup
Whoever that some much would have to change
I went to games as a Knicks fan, they had Strickland, 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 rock Queens
Feinds on the know me for holdin b's work
Seein poppin up in European whips, exceed 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
Like Rik Smits, born hypocrit, every now and then be on different shit
Switch directions, my bad, disception
My love is for bloody money so skip 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 shoes of his
You could tell by the finger nails, clean, hair up, every four days
A routine, where 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 get his proper groove on
He tell the even when he lies, give you a fake name
Even though his name is Nas, god body, and wide body, rumble for
To the S-Class, six niggaz, your size, either come wit a plan
To make it happen, 'cause weight or rappin, we still trapped in a slave

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