Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fear God, not
Steer my Robin through the streets of the boot and soowoop
And, I leave blood 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 your pop stole me a bus pass
So in your possession, ah ah, I ask

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

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

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

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

You niggas want
I want a and uh, we be
Lost in or Jamaica where we be
Hard body nigga, takin' it easy
All about my paper, 'bout my 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 dead I'm