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
Over here, I'm returnin em that's my word that be blasted
from two-twenty to one-fourty, that's mine
Y'all niggaz the fuck off
Y'all niggaz crazy for real

Genius]

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

One: Genius]

I'm down in the back streets - in the heart of Medina
About to set off something deep than a misdemeanor
the subway, waiting 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
Like the crashin of Dow Jones
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 deal blunt fire
Bum niggaz on the bench, they had em wired
Peeped my convo, the of my condo
And how I changed a name to John Doe
And we set up camp, we got Vamp
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set Brandon Lee
out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103
He got on, his lungs was torn, the
kingpin castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should took out

No is rough enough
is no clip that's full enough
I can't fold, I gold, I re-up and reload
Product be sold to YOU

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

[Verse Genius]

It's mandatory
I all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes, and em out like crops on a farm
to get CREAM, sometimes they the scene
Like the last episode on gates and other
plant bombs til the smoke the blast becomes thick
and through all they knew, he's gun sick
His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay
Mad sick, stand on hills and wars
Filthy foul, dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack
His idols would lock down airports and next
import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in
They move keys and had skis making on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, 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 closed doors
And still organized and drug wars

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

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

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