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 get caught flinging
Over here, I'm returning 'em, my word they getting blasted
Anything from 220 to 140, that's
Y'all to step the fuck off
Y'all niggas crazy for real

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

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

No is rough enough
There is no clip that's enough
I can't fold, I gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be 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 mandatory that I supply all my troops mega firearms
Big apes and spread 'em out like on a farm
To get cream, sometimes they the scene
Like the last on gates, and other niggas
Plant bombs till the smoke from the blast becomes
And through, all they knew, he's gun sick
His Glock like high-heeled shoes on parquet floors
Mad sick, stand on and invade wars
foul, shovelling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, worth
His idols would lock down 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 was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and than 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 organized his crime and drug wars

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

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

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