Luyện nghe bài hát Gotta Eat

[ 1 ]
My .44 calicol will silence souls, masada
The ghost of the prolific 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 angels looking down at my body attached to
kissed by the widow spider that spit saliva
I write for and boxers at rikers
I write
Blue ink replaced the in my veins
in this game, flooded up rings
Cluttered up change, quick to pop a in your brain
If you a killer, then slugs we
We like the mobsters, bullet and choppers
Cop cars and road blockers, tryin to knock us
Catch us behind the bitches, d's tryin to pop us
On cbs while the world watch us

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

[ 2 ]
I write theories that's motion pictures, hear me?
I spit it clearly to roast niggas, feel me?
Gangster, of a don my icon
Sling on my right arm, rubber grip in my left arm
Body with teflon, it's brooknam
a eyebrow at the child, respectfully bow
Pay hommage, studs in my garment
Hot slugs miss me cause I'm
If it hit me, god's wish
No man taketh a life, I'm late in the
me in the hood shakin the dice
Contemplatin a
Some say my is satan's alike
Cartel, pop shells our heart fails
Brooknam, a.k.a.
Clappin at the
Bitches with tits
At
We live the life of a true

[ ]

[ 3 ]
I feel a holy comin on me
My lifestyle: based on a story
Read the name appears alphabetic
On clear with no edits
bleedin in the hands of medics
Priest, I it epic
Spoke on records,
Physique: I six feet
Observe my posture, my deep
edition, just listen
The words breathe on my sheet, I write a
Speak on behalf of every slain
My slang's hostile, say my name as
Masada, pop 2 through the booth
say nothin, pull my weapon and shoot
Bullets wettin their
Herut's lady put death in my
die violent in war, silence the .4
The fall motion, seen the silent applause

[ ]