Luyện nghe bài hát Cold

Chorus: bizmarkie 3x

I walked and I lived too cold

hell razah

This out.
This y'all niggaz all been looking for.
A story for all my brothers.
You what I'm saying? sunz of man return.
We gon' on by and keep it moving.
Just it got cold.
Cold we got jewels, we gon' walk on by and keep it moving.
Check it. moving. up.

razah]
Aiyyo, my be colorless
The undercover rich, haters loving it, watch the hell tut' with it
Queen's, bathtubbing it, my diamond's it
Sharp and on point, the tricks of the government
Money the world, watch my people suffering
Cops in, handcuffing men 'til they wrist bleed
Some read what don't need, give to seed
Black, lebanese, rabbis in green
Microphone masked mc's,
Hard head mc's get and still they freeze
The truth came in flesh but still you don't
The best thing you know is the to find weed
Get the knowledge dungarees, we still
Sunz of man, uk keep it
We come to clubs, the ones who bring the trouble in
What, he his soul, life publishing

(chorus: 2x)

[hell
Have to walk on by and it moving

sunn]
I remenise all my days whenever I phase and kept a blaze
Y'all mental renegades, wasn't enough to eliminate
In my of hard times and good times
mine with the wines, became nice with the mind
Born intelligent, fuck elegant, I
For the ladies and gents, deliquents and
hungry, gun play on the sunny
Crews sweeter honey, stars fuck for all they money
Stupid dummies, fifteen slugs flood the
rapped like mummies, sipping remy's
The clip empty, feeling shifty,
Highly intoxicated, simply in
Never he could be faded
Up in the hospital, critical, pickles
no teeth, back on the streets he got beef for little keith and tariff
A walking death wish, living selfish, I of felt this
The of september, he felt helpless and breathless

(chorus)

[hell
Today, life, shoot out, a dice game, loot out
out, laying on three hundred dollar sweaters
Tools out, last day schools out, nine and better
Carry the eighth or red leather, timberland gear
Hands in the air, this is a stick up, don't for hiccups
You won't need a pick-up, money in the laundry bag
Hungry get they guns from a-rabs
With the that they had, they rob more victims on the av.
Today cash, of the program
Lord sun of man, killing your own relatives
Unknown start giving the to the dry bones,
We all came the same throne
Raise the with the brain poem, one is aimed home

(chorus: 3.5x)