Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

[Intro: Method

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

[Chorus:

Yo, the ain't coming fast enough
There is no cut that's enough
I can't fold, I gold, I re-up and reload
must 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 cross seals, to catch mil's
Than ho-bitches got birth pills
I'm in the park, settin up a deal over fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em
my convo, the address of my condo
And how I changed a name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got
Put the through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
Snake got on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame, Pan Am flight 103
He got on, his lungs was torn, the
kingpin just with his rook and lost a pawn
A on the block, and played look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should have out

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

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

[Verse Genius]

mandatory that
I all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes, and spread em out like on a farm
to get CREAM, sometimes they the scene
Like the last episode on gates and niggaz
plant bombs til the smoke from the becomes thick
and flows through all they knew, he's gun
His glock clicks, high-heeled shoes on parquay floors
Mad sick, on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, worth
His idols would lock down airports and next
some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends
Up in the ski resorts, up in
They move keys and had skis making drops on
The plan was to expand, seven figures, release triggers
And live large and than my nigga
Who promised his moms a with mad rooms
She died, and he still put a grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid closed doors
And still crime 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
Product must be to YOU

No is rough enough
There is no clips full enough
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 fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product be sold... to YOU