Luyện nghe bài hát Gotta Eat

[ 1 ]
My .44 calicol silence y'all souls, masada
The ghost of the prolific writer
my death bed in roast in fire
See my most
Smell the smoke my flesh as my ghost rise up
Hear the of 100 choirs
And angels looking down at my body to wires
Priest kissed by the widow spider that saliva
I write for and boxers at rikers
I write
Blue ink replaced the in my veins
Thug in this game, flooded up
Cluttered up change, to pop a slug in your brain
If you a killer, then slugs we
We the mobsters, bullet shells and choppers
Cop cars and road blockers, they to knock us
us duck 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 at the club
I do this shit for the niggas I love
I do this shit for the streets, cause a gotta eat, luv (2x)

[ 2 ]
I write theories that's pictures, y'all hear me?
I it clearly to roast y'all niggas, feel me?
Gangster, of a don my icon
on my right arm, rubber grip tight in my left arm
Body suited with teflon, brooknam
Raise a eyebrow at the child, bow
Pay hommage, gold in my garment
Hot slugs miss me cause I'm
If it hit me, it's wish
No man a life, I'm late in the night
Catch me in the shakin the dice
Contemplatin a
Some say my is satan's alike
Cartel, pop shells our heart fails
Brooknam, a.k.a.
at the spaceship
Bitches fake tits
At
We live the life of a thug

[ ]

[ 3 ]
I feel a holy spirit on me
My lifestyle: based on a true
Read the credits: name appears
On clear film with no
bleedin in the hands of medics
Priest, I it epic
on records, majestic
Physique: I stand six
my posture, my click's deep
Director's edition, listen
The words breathe on my sheet, I write a
Speak on behalf of slain apostle
My slang's hostile, say my name as
Masada, pop 2 through the booth
Don't say nothin, pull my and shoot
wettin their suits
Herut's put death in my shoes
Cats die in war, silence the .4
The slow motion, seen the silent applause

[ ]