Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

[Intro: Method

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

[Chorus:

Yo, the fiends coming fast enough
There is no cut that's enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product be sold to YOU

One: Genius]

I'm deep in the back streets - in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for
He pushed up on the block and made the dope drop
Like the crashin of Dow stock
I had to to cross seals, to catch more mil's
Than ho-bitches got control pills
I'm in the park, settin up a over blunt fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, 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 stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs
Snake got smoked on the set like Lee
Blown out the frame, Pan Am flight 103
He got on, his lungs was torn, the
just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A on the block, and played look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should took out

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

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

[Verse Genius]

mandatory that
I supply all my troops with firearms
Big apes, and spread em out like on a farm
to get CREAM, they repaint the scene
Like the episode on gates and other niggaz
plant bombs til the smoke from the becomes thick
and flows through all they knew, he's gun
His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and wars
Filthy foul, dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, worth
His idols would lock airports and next extort
some import, catchin ten percent of what the snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in
move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release
And live large and bigger my nigga
Who promised his a mansion with mad rooms
She died, and he still put a hundred in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed
And still organized crime and drug

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

No neighborhood is enough
There is no clips full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I and reload
must be sold to YOU

The peers that come is tight
There is no that's fucking up
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
must be sold... to YOU