Luyện nghe bài hát Trust

Its like a cold story over and over
In the of my mind
This be real man
Shits crazy out
Yo yo, yo what up
Thats my niggas over

1]
If you to take chances
Youll never have the
I could tell the future of a dude how his is
Wonder will he shoot then you should study where his is
Is he gonna it and pop it
His big
But he have that thing in him
Slanging aint in him
Body language is off, hes
But soft niggas all a sudden start dumping,
Cause he a way
My niggas say the eyes is a
One could tell me if you really came to kill me
Be the quiet nigga
with the milli
Who that over there,
Who by the tree
Better than sorry, look at p-noid me
Few guns close, we could squeeze all three
Be a cold day in hell fore creep on me
Its a every premonition
Lotta niggas killed cause they paying attention


I want a I can trust
niggas I can trust
Accountants looking over my figures I can
A lawyer fighting for my decisions I can trust
my nigga trust
I can get enough
A I can trust
Shooters I can
Goons that know how to spot out a I can trust
And if I cant trust you, the is you here for
Some of you niggas colors becoming clear more
2]
Its so long
Cant remember how we this war
is a ever-lasting thunderstorm
Cause guns off
I see your mom's she still
She dont know I aint cool her son no more
Its old shit, see we holding this grudge
real men to squash beef
End it hugs
We our dead, been years
Why should I worry him
Constantly my back
Plus telling I dread
Another day I put a in black
I be calm and relaxed
Though I somehow it will come back
if Im in the right
Cause a life is a life
What was it worth to see you covered in
Its redundant
Whether you the hunter or the
cry, no statute of limitation on a homicide
Just tattoos of my names
I will it change
ride

3]
Its I listen to niggas who never been in my position
A cant relate to what an eagle envisions
From the mind of a man who went at it with
Sit down man
Let me school you in hood
Seen a lotta niggas
Lotta folded
wasnt humble, ate too much, got bloated
Aint too left to buy
it Im loaded I guess
Lear
I ask do I need love or success
They say the artist that suffers
His stuff is the
his heart bleed on his sleeve
Pain and sex
Remember spray painting the Fresh and then staring at it
Older folks angry, pointing, at it
I sprayed, nowadays drive the Mclaren past it
Same old man from years ago told me life is
So from infant to
Trust your own
Live it and love it