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 anybody get caught
Over here, I'm returnin em that's my word they be blasted
Anything from two-twenty to one-fourty, that's
niggaz step the fuck off
Y'all niggaz ain't crazy for

[Chorus:

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

[Verse 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 a nigga and his boys - for what?
He pushed up on the block and the dope sales drop
Like the crashin of Dow Jones
I had to connect to cross seals, to more mil's
ho-bitches got birth control 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
got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame, like Pan Am 103
He got swung on, his was torn, the
kingpin just castled his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played
For predator with a glock, he should have took out

No is rough enough
There is no clip that's enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I and reload
Product must be to YOU

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

[Verse Genius]

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

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

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

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