Luyện nghe bài hát Where's The Love

At times I window at the Wynn hotel
Lots of happens in life, will I win or fail?
Mind of a shooter, CFO
Ethiopian food flown in, unlawful
Money is attractive, dress strapless
Agent Provocateur underwear: classic
Stroll up in the party: titanium car
Romanian ladies Casablanca, Casbah
'Cept we in the VIP area, that's
You know the real rap gods, trap star turned rap star
These old heads got stories, the days was kings
I pray secret indictments don't take their dreams
You 16, you could do 20, come young
Catch 20 years you 40? Holmes, you're done
What we become? Rap stars from trap stars
gods to Ansars to Sunnis back to goonies
A 360 in the streets real
Shooters is cold, kid, the old shit was
Student enrollment to focus, yet 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
Chewing on his pencil eraser with to erase you
U.S.A. against the gangsta, where's the love?

Love, trade you love
I've traded fire you long enough
Is that all you brung? not love
That's fucked up, but I your soul
that up

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

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