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 till it me
You know like, gossip found me, then why 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 nigga that is a weak emotion, the lady of a
And you can get tipped ya waitin' on a nigga
Put a body bag and an apron on the

I give my all 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 that championship belt 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 like to fuckin' pull lice

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

it over
(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 pull out my and ride it

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

Fear God, not
Steer my Robin Coupe the streets of the boot 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 twisted the strings on a boot
Now at New at

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm not dead I'm