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 flinging
Over here, I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting
from 220 to 140, that's mine
Y'all need to the fuck off
Y'all ain't crazy for real

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

I'm deep down in the back streets, in the of Medina
About to set off something deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to noise
So I can a nigga and his boys,for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the 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 park setting up a deal blunt fire
Bum sleeping on the bench, they had him wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my
And how I changed a nigga name to Doe
And we set up camp, we got vamped
Put the stake his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the like Pan Am Flight 103
He got swung on, his lungs was
A kingpin just castled with his and lost a pawn
A regular on the block that lookout
For playing predator with a Glock, he should took out

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

Fiends ain't coming fast
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 and spread 'em out like crops on a farm
To get cream, sometimes repaint the scene
Like the last episode on gates, and other
bombs till the smoke from the blast becomes thick
And flows through, all they knew, he's gun
His Glock clicks like high-heeled 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 idols would lock down and extort
Some import, catching ten percent of what the fiends
Up in the ski resorts, up in
move keys and had the skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release
And live and bigger than my nigga
Who promised his moms a with mad room
She died and he still put a hundred in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid closed doors
And still his crime and drug wars

Fiends coming fast enough
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 rough
There is no clips full enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
must be sold to you

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