Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

[Intro: Method

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

[Chorus:

Yo, the ain't coming fast enough
There is no cut pure enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be to YOU

One: Genius]

I'm deep down in the back - in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more deep a misdemeanor
the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for
He up on the block and made the dope sales drop
Like the crashin of Dow Jones
I had to connect to cross seals, to catch mil's
Than ho-bitches got control pills
I'm in the park, settin up a deal over fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, had em wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my
And how I a nigga name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs
Snake got smoked on the set like Lee
out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103
He got on, his lungs was torn, the
kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a
A regular on the block, and played
For predator with a glock, he should have took out

No neighborhood is enough
There is no clip that's enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
Product must be to YOU

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

[Verse Two:

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

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

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

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