Luyện nghe bài hát Where's The Love

At times I window watch at the Wynn
Lots of thinking in life, will I win or fail?
of a shooter, CFO also
Ethiopian flown in, it's unlawful
Money is attractive, honey strapless
Agent underwear: she's classic
Stroll up in the party: black car
Romanian ladies Casablanca, Casbah
'Cept we in the VIP area, ours
You know the real rap gods, typical trap turned rap star
old heads got stories, the days they was kings
I pray indictments don't take away their dreams
You 16, you could do 20, come home
Catch 20 years when you 40? Holmes, done
What have we become? Rap stars from stars
Black gods to Ansars to Sunnis back to
A 360 in the streets grizzly
is cold, kid, the old shit was learning
Student to focus, yet hooligans roll with
Toasters to pop your medullas off of shoulders
This ain't the Show
It's the human
Ask the F.B.I. at his cubicle
on his pencil eraser with intents to erase you
It's U.S.A. the gangsta, where's the love?

Love, I'll trade you
traded fire with you long enough
Is all you brung? It's not love
That's fucked up, but I saved soul
that up

Sometimes I sit on the bench to watch the game
Feet on cement, ain't a mobster living I could name
Who made it out rich, in his I do not proclaim
To not have a heart wild animals not tamed
just a typical thug nigga was my rank
'Cept I had a vision above niggas, what I
It's crazy how many brothers come from where I from
Some made it out big, some dead, unsung
Shots for soldiers on 23 hours
Younger generation, want to mimic and mock us
Laughing, separating like they not us, like
"Cops'll look at you like they at me? That's preposterous"
Ain't it how your man made it? I'm humble
One gun, one ass nigga, that's Jungle
Now we having babies, growing up it was just us
No or cousins to fight with us, we was fucked up
But still it was beautiful, the is mutual
Even though me and Jung ain't show up to your
I hold son hand, tell him he the man, we love you
pops was king, you have a whole lot to live up to
The G is in your genes, you tuck
Inherit your swag, it's George Jefferson's strut
Stay flyest, they gon' want to what in your diet
Don't be if they want to check your shit and your vomit
Tell you let it marinate, they swear you made them a promise
No matter what do, you just stay a man of honor
I'm a street nigga, New York Knicks loyalist
sipper, pass it out, might blow it with you
It ain't the show
It's the show
Ask the F.B.I. agent at his
Chews on his pencil eraser with to erase you
Young brother go and get your paper, I got

Love, I'll you love
traded fire with you long enough
Is that all you brung? not love
That's fucked up, but I saved soul
Roll up
Roll up