Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

[Intro: Method

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

[Chorus:

Yo, the ain't coming fast enough
is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
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 - for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the 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 on the bench, they had em wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my
And how I changed a nigga to John Doe
And we set up camp, we got Vamp
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fangs apart
Snake got on the set like Brandon Lee
out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103
He got on, his lungs was torn, the
just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played
For playing predator with a glock, he have 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 must be to YOU

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

[Verse Two:

It's 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 last episode on gates and other
plant bombs til the smoke from the blast thick
and flows through all they knew, gun sick
His glock clicks, like shoes on parquay floors
Mad sick, stand on and invade wars
Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, worth
His idols would lock down and next extort
some import, catchin ten of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in
They move keys and had skis making drops on
The plan was to expand, catch figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my
Who promised his a mansion with mad rooms
She died, and he put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid closed doors
And still organized crime and wars

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

No neighborhood is rough
There is no clips that's enough
I can't fold, I 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