Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

A-yo shorty, yo that's my
Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all
Yo anybody get flinging
Over here, I'm returning 'em, that's my word they blasted
Anything 220 to 140, that's mine
Y'all need to the fuck off
Y'all niggas ain't for real

Yo, the fiends ain't fast enough
There is no cut that's enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
Product be sold to you

I'm deep down in the streets, in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more deep a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to noise
So I can blast a and his boys,for what?
He pushed up on the and made the dope sales drop
Like the crash in the Dow Jones
I had a connect to cross-sales, to more mill's
ho-bitches got birth control pills
I'm in the park setting up a deal over fire
Bum nigga sleeping on the bench, had him wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my
And how I changed a name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set Brandon Lee
Blown out the like Pan Am Flight 103
He got on, his lungs was torn
A kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a
A regular on the block played lookout
For playing predator a Glock, he should have took out

No neighbourhood is rough
There is no clip full enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product be sold to you

ain't coming fast enough
There is no cut pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
must be sold to you

It's mandatory that I supply all my troops with firearms
Big apes and spread 'em out like on a farm
To get cream, they repaint the scene
Like the last episode on gates, and niggas
Plant bombs the smoke from the blast becomes thick
And flows through, all knew, he's gun sick
His Glock clicks like high-heeled on parquet floors
Mad sick, on hills and invade wars
foul, shovelling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, worth
His would lock down airports and extort
Some import, catching ten percent of the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in
They move keys and had the making drops on snowmobiles
The was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger my nigga
Who his moms a mansion with mad room
She died and he put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid closed doors
And still organized his crime and drug

Fiends ain't coming enough
is no cut that's pure enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be to you

No is rough enough
is no clips that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
Product must be to you

There's no cuffs tight enough
There is no niggas that's fuck us
I can't fold, I need gold, I and reload
Product be sold to you