Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

I hate gossip and I don't walk around lookin' for it, you
But yesterday it seemed to just wander on till it me
You know like, gossip me, then why don't 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 that is a weak emotion, the lady 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 never see, if you sit behind the light
You don't to pick me to win the title fight
But I'm gone wear that belt so tight

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

And my flow is rare, these rappers nice
These rappers bark, some of 'em even bite
But I'm much more bright, I give the game
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 what I am and start epitomizin'
Legitimate, I got the of the biggest lion
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 pion-eer, near Zion

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want beef?
I a steak and uh, we be
Lost in or Jamaica where we be
Hard nigga, just takin' it easy
All about my paper, 'bout my paper 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 your
And it out to Mr.Hip Hop

I'm not I'm alive