Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

I hate gossip and I don't walk around for it, you know?
But yesterday it seemed to just on till it found me
You know like, gossip found me, then why don't you try 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 that is a weak emotion, the lady of a nigga
And you can get tipped like ya on a nigga
Put a body bag and an apron on the

I my all behind the mic
But you could never see, if you sit the light
You don't have to 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, there is no
I'm to be polite
But you bitches in my hair like to fuckin' lice

And my is rare, these other rappers nice
other rappers bark, some of 'em even bite
But I'm much more bright, I give the sight
So before you dim the you just might, might wanna

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My is like pasta
it and eat it
But I'm need g's
If I'm bakin' the

You niggas want
I want a and uh, we be
in Amsterdam or Jamaica where we be
Hard body nigga, just takin' it
All about my paper, 'bout my paper Eazy

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

I'm not dead I'm