Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

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

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

I'm deep down in the streets, in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more deep than a
Under the subway, for the train to make noise
So I can a nigga 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 catch more
ho-bitches got birth control pills
I'm in the park setting up a over blunt fire
Bum sleeping on the bench, they 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 his fucking fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame like Pan Am 103
He got on, his lungs was torn
A kingpin just with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block that played
For playing predator a Glock, he should have took out

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

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

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

Fiends coming fast enough
is no cut that's pure enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be to you

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

There's no that's tight enough
There is no niggas fuck with us
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
must be sold to you