Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

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

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 wear that championship 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' pull

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

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

Get 'em
Stop, analyzin'
You should realize what I am and epitomizin'
Legitimate, I got the of the biggest 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 city's still I emerge from all of that
I am a livin' pion-eer, near

Fear God, not
Steer my Robin Coupe through the of the boot and soowoop
And, then I leave in a boot, I leave a blood bath
Sorry a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at?

I'm like the strings 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 your possession, ah ah, I ask

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

Drag my through the mud
I out clean cast away stones
I won't even
A gun is not a problem
I won't even

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

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

You want beef?
I want a and uh, we be
Lost in Amsterdam or Jamaica we be
Hard body nigga, just it easy
All my paper, 'bout 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 check nigga fuck props
And it out to Mr.Hip Hop

I'm not dead I'm