Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

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

Yo, the 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

I'm down in the back streets, in the heart of Medina
About to set off 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 up on the block and made the dope sales drop
Like the crash in the Dow stock
I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more
Than ho-bitches got birth control
I'm in the setting up a deal over blunt fire
Bum nigga sleeping on the bench, they had him
Peeped my convo, the address of my
And how I changed a nigga to John Doe
And we set up camp, we got vamped
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame Pan Am Flight 103
He got swung on, his lungs was
A just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A on the block that played lookout
For playing predator with a Glock, he should have out

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

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

mandatory that I supply all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes and spread 'em out crops on a farm
To get cream, sometimes repaint the scene
Like the last on gates, and other niggas
Plant bombs till the from the blast becomes thick
And through, all they knew, he's gun sick
His Glock clicks like shoes on parquet floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade
foul, shovelling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, off hands, attack worth
His would lock down airports and extort
Some import, ten percent of what 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, seven figures, release triggers
And large 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 behind closed
And still organized his and drug wars

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

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

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