Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

A-yo shorty, yo my word
Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all
Yo anybody get caught
Over here, I'm returning 'em, my word they getting blasted
Anything from 220 to 140, mine
need to step the fuck off
Y'all niggas crazy for real

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

I'm deep down in the back streets, in the of Medina
About to set off more deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make
So I can blast a nigga and his boys,for
He pushed up on the block and the dope sales drop
Like the in the Dow Jones stock
I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch mill's
Than ho-bitches got control pills
I'm in the park up a deal over blunt fire
Bum nigga on the bench, they had him wired
Peeped my convo, the of my condo
And how I changed a nigga name to Doe
And we set up camp, we got vamped
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs
Snake got smoked on the set like Lee
Blown out the frame like Pan Am 103
He got swung on, his lungs was
A kingpin castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block that lookout
For playing predator with a Glock, he have took out

No neighbourhood is rough
There is no clip that's enough
I can't fold, I gold, I re-up and reload
Product be sold to you

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

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

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

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

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