Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

A-yo shorty, yo that's my
Oh, smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get flinging
here, I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting blasted
Anything from 220 to 140, mine
Y'all to step 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 fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product be sold to you

I'm deep in the back streets, in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more than a misdemeanor
the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his boys,for
He pushed up on the block and the dope sales drop
the crash in the Dow Jones stock
I had a connect to cross-sales, to more mill's
Than got birth control pills
I'm in the park setting up a over blunt fire
Bum nigga sleeping on the bench, they had him
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
got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame like Pan Am 103
He got swung on, his was torn
A kingpin just castled his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block that lookout
For playing predator a Glock, he should have took out

No neighbourhood is enough
There is no that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I and reload
Product be sold to you

Fiends coming fast enough
There is no cut pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I and reload
must be sold to you

It's mandatory that I supply all my troops with firearms
Big apes and spread 'em out crops on a farm
To get cream, sometimes they the scene
the last episode on gates, and other niggas
Plant bombs till the smoke from the becomes thick
And flows through, all they knew, gun sick
His Glock clicks like shoes on parquet floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and wars
Filthy foul, shovelling dirt, out to hurt
For instance, off hands, attack worth
His idols would 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 skis making on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release
And live large and bigger than my
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad
She died and he put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed
And still his crime and drug wars

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

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

no cuffs that's tight enough
There is no that's fuck with us
I can't fold, I gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be to you