Luyện nghe bài hát Gotta Eat

[ 1 ]
My .44 calicol will silence souls, masada
The ghost of the most writer
my death bed in roast in fire
See my desires
Smell the from my flesh as my ghost rise up
the voices of 100 choirs
And looking down at my body attached to wires
Priest kissed by the widow that spit saliva
I write for lifers and at rikers
I write
ink replaced the blood in my veins
Thug in this game, flooded up
Cluttered up change, quick to pop a slug in your
If you a killer, then we exchange
We like the mobsters, bullet and choppers
Cop cars and road blockers, they tryin to us
Catch us behind the bitches, d's tryin to pop us
On cbs news while the watch us

[ ]
I do this for my thugs
I do this shit for the chicks at the
I do this for the niggas that I love
I do this for the streets, cause a nigga gotta eat, luv (2x)

[ 2 ]
I write theories motion pictures, y'all hear me?
I spit it clearly to roast y'all niggas, me?
Gangster, life of a don my
Sling on my right arm, rubber grip tight in my arm
Body suited with teflon, brooknam
Raise a eyebrow at the child, bow
Pay hommage, gold studs in my
Hot slugs miss me I'm god-sent
If it hit me, it's wish
No man taketh a life, I'm late in the
Catch me in the hood the dice
Contemplatin a
Some say my team is satan's
Cartel, pop shells our heart fails
Brooknam, a.k.a.
Clappin at the
Bitches with tits
At
We the life of a true thug

[ ]

[ 3 ]
I feel a holy spirit on me
My based on a true story
the credits: name appears alphabetic
On clear film no edits
Masada bleedin in the of medics
Priest, I live it
on records, majestic
Physique: I six feet
Observe my posture, my click's
Director's edition, listen
The words on my sheet, I write a novel
on behalf of every slain apostle
My slang's hostile, say my name as
Masada, pop 2 through the confession
Don't say nothin, pull my and shoot
Bullets their suits
Herut's lady put death in my
Cats die in war, silence the .4
The fall motion, seen the silent applause

[ ]