Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

I hate and I don't walk around lookin' for it, you know?
But yesterday it to just wander on till it found me
You know like, found me, then why don't you try provin' it
How? You know how to prove it?
Well, what would you 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 ya waitin' on a nigga
Put a bag and an apron on the nigga

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

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

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

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

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

My flow sick, so sick, it's my shit is dyin'
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, near

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

I'm twisted like the strings on a shoe, no 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 possession, ah ah, I must ask

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

Drag my name the mud
I come out clean away stones
I won't blink
A gun is not a problem
I even think

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

My flow is like
it and eat it
But I'm need g's
If I'm the zeedy

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

Why do rappers? Why do
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 I'm alive