Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

I hate gossip and I don't walk lookin' for it, you know?
But it seemed to just wander on till it found me
You know like, gossip me, then why don't you try provin' it
You don't 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 lady of a
And you can get like ya waitin' on a nigga
Put a body bag and an on the nigga

I give my all the mic
But you never see, if you sit behind the light
You don't have to me to win the title fight
But I'm gone wear that championship so tight

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

And my flow is rare, these other nice
These other rappers bark, some of 'em even
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, think it
(Think it baby, baby)

Get 'em
Stop, criticizin'
You should realize 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, like my shit is dyin'
It a lot in my city, because my city's cryin'
Because my dyin' still I emerge from all of that
I am a pion-eer, near Zion

Fear God, not
Steer my Robin through the streets of the boot and soowoop
And, then I leave blood in a boot, I 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 nigga bug
I'm twisted like the on a boot
Now at New at

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

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

Drag my name the mud
I come out clean cast 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 in me, don't believe me
I've graduated hungry
And it to greedy

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

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

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

I'm not I'm alive