Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

[Intro: Method

Shorty, yo that's my word
Oh, y'all smellin piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get caught
Over here, I'm em that's my word that they be blasted
Anything from two-twenty to one-fourty, mine
niggaz step the fuck off
Y'all ain't crazy for real

[Chorus:

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

[Verse Genius]

I'm deep down in the streets - in the heart of Medina
About to set off something deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his - for what?
He pushed up on the and made the dope sales drop
the crashin of Dow Jones stock
I had to connect to seals, to catch more mil's
Than ho-bitches got birth pills
I'm in the park, settin up a over blunt fire
Bum niggaz on the bench, they had em wired
my convo, the address of my condo
And how I a nigga name to John Doe
And we set up camp, we got Vamp
Put the through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set like Lee
Blown out the frame, Pan Am flight 103
He got swung on, his was torn, the
kingpin just castled his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and look-out
For playing predator a glock, he should have took out

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

The fiends ain't fast enough
There is no cut pure enough
I can't fold, I gold, I re-up and reload,
Product be sold to YOU

[Verse Genius]

It's mandatory
I supply all my with mega firearms
Big apes, and spread em out like crops on a
to get CREAM, sometimes they repaint the
Like the last episode on gates and niggaz
plant til the smoke from the blast becomes thick
and flows through all they knew, he's gun
His clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade
Filthy foul, dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack
His idols would lock down airports and extort
some import, catchin ten of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in
They keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, seven figures, release triggers
And large and bigger than my nigga
Who promised his a mansion with mad rooms
She died, and he still put a grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed
And still organized crime and drug

The fiends coming fast enough
There is no cut that's enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I and reload
Product must be to YOU

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

The peers that is tight enough
There is no niggaz that's up
I can't fold, I need gold, I and reload
must be sold... to YOU