Luyện nghe bài hát Cartel Gathering

Yo, yo, yo, to ride, nigga, yeah

Aiyyo, we four or five with furs on
Up top up, big tables got the reserves on
on saxophones, the band is rough
So ice on, looks like my wrist been cut

And we just made it from Beijing
Seen my jeweler, told him melt the down to eight rings
But then the music stopped, Jada up
Before the speech, he had everybody raise cups

He said, "I been in spots where I even mention it"
"Don't drink the Cris', Ghost mighta in it"
Romanian dude, down, pourin' the saki
Face slumped to the like Rocky

And Strahan came with his bullshit ring
He said, "Yikes", I pulled out my monster bling
Don't be afraid of the New street talk
I switch gear all day, bro, you do on your peach porch

The chairs is suede, the walls is
Marquise ballroom, so I felt it
Fat asses in fishnets, shakin' they
Playin' they pussy, middle finger drippin', I smelt it

Poker tables, joints just for rap niggaz
Me and Sheek, walkin' around bitch slappin'
go Rae, there go P
Yo Chop,

Sam Cooke hand, all of my lightning, damn
Used to rob in Sam's, buy shams
For my dude's baby shoe or booster baby, rollin' with
Eatin' Jamaican food under the

You the deal, book somethin' then blow
from a O to a low, little apartment in Brookdale
Gold was my motto, lotto numbers is
Had it in me, rolled down with coke

That's the '90s, Chef era take America
Bag Ugly Betty up, her Ms. Guerrera
Pinky wench in sweaters, burnin' the mic booth
right past my heritage

Them old school is me
Taught me how to read, get skee'd, missin' a ki
Yo, I do this a natural movement
Catch me by the [Incomprehensible], scope on me, fuck it, I'm it

Yeah, yo, I did it my way, lights off on the
Greek statues on both sides of the
Word to the stamps on the
The way these is lookin' either they got cramps or they evil

One go, we all go, fresh but hard dough
and suede cargoes
On top of the beige
45 government edition clippers, hollows

My clientele is supreme and it's
That I'm only for the Link if it's Cuban
I'm a pioneer, I'm not a vet
'Last Kiss' is a French one, it's not a

Movin' powder, and a lot of wet
You're gonna die, a promise not a threat
Yeah, but I ain't the chatterin'
'Cause I'd just rather splatter
This is a gatherin', what?