Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

A-yo shorty, yo my word
Oh, y'all smelling y'all now y'all think y'all gold
Yo get caught 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 niggas crazy for real

Yo, the fiends ain't coming enough
There is no cut that's pure
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
Product must be 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, waiting for the train to make
So I can blast a nigga and his boys,for
He pushed up on the block and made the dope drop
Like the crash in the Dow stock
I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more
Than ho-bitches got control pills
I'm in the park up a deal over 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 while we set up camp, we got
Put the stake his heart, I ripped 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 just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block that lookout
For playing predator a Glock, he should have took out

No is rough enough
There is no that's full enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
must be sold to you

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

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

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

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

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