Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

I hate gossip and I walk around lookin' for it, you know?
But yesterday it seemed to just wander on it found me
You like, gossip found me, then why don't you try provin' it
How? You know how to prove it?
Well, would you just do is
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,

Stop, hatin' on a nigga that is a weak emotion, the of a nigga
And you can get tipped ya waitin' on a nigga
Put a bag and an apron on the nigga

I my all behind the mic
But you could see, if you sit behind the light
You don't to pick me to win the title fight
But I'm gone wear that belt so tight

And if I'm wrong, is no right
And if I'm wrong, is no white
I'm to be polite
But you bitches in my hair like to fuckin' lice

And my flow is rare, other rappers nice
These other rappers bark, of 'em even bite
But I'm more bright, I give the game sight
So you dim the light you just might, might wanna

it over
(Think it over)
Ooh, think it
(Think it baby, baby)

Get 'em
Stop, criticizin'
You realize what I am and start epitomizin'
Legitimate, I got the of the biggest lion
I'm confident like 'em all pull out my dick and ride it

My flow sick, so sick, it's like my shit is
It rains a lot in my city, because my city's
Because my dyin' still I emerge from all of that
I am a livin' pion-eer, Zion

God, not them
Steer my Robin Coupe through the streets of the boot and
And, then I leave blood in a boot, I a blood bath
there's a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at?

I'm twisted like the on a shoe, no nigga bug that
I'm twisted like the strings on a
Now at New at

I feel pop stole me like a bus pass
So in possession, ah ah, I must ask

Hey, haven't I good to you?
(Think it over)
Tell me, I been sweet to you?

my name through the mud
I come out clean cast stones
I won't blink
A gun is not a math
I won't even

Just leave you dead like the mink under my
believe in me, don't believe me
I've from hungry
And made it to

My flow is pasta
it and eat it
But I'm gone g's
If I'm the zeedy

You want beef?
I a steak and uh, we be
Lost in or Jamaica where we be
Hard body nigga, just takin' it
All about my paper, my paper like Eazy

Why do Why do rappers?
Lie to fans, lie to rappers, lot of
Lie actin', cut the mothafuckin' cameras
Cut the nigga fuck your props
And it out to Mr.Hip Hop

I'm not I'm alive