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 know like, found me, then why don't you try provin' it
How? You know how to prove it?
Well, would you just do is
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,

Stop, on a nigga that is a weak emotion, the lady of a nigga
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 could never see, if you sit behind the
You don't have to me to win the title fight
But I'm gone wear that 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 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 before you dim the light you might, might wanna

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

Get 'em
Stop, criticizin'
You should realize what I am and start
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 my shit is dyin'
It rains a lot in my city, because my cryin'
Because my 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, I leave blood in a boot, I leave a blood bath
Sorry a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at?

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

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

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

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

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

You niggas beef?
I want a 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 Why do rappers?
Lie to fans, lie to rappers, lot of
Lie like actin', cut the mothafuckin'
Cut the check fuck your props
And it out to Mr.Hip Hop

I'm not dead I'm