Luyện nghe bài hát Where's The Love

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

Love, I'll trade you
I've fire with 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 bench just to the game
Feet on cement, there ain't a mobster living I could
Who made it out rich, in his absence I do not
To not a heart like wild animals not tamed
Maybe just a typical thug was my rank
'Cept I had a above niggas, what I think
It's how many brothers come from where I come from
Some made it out big, some dead, some
Shots for soldiers on 23 hours
Younger generation, they to mimic and mock us
Laughing, separating themselves they not us, like
"Cops'll look at you like look at me? That's preposterous"
Ain't it gangsta how man made it? I'm humble
One gun, one crazy ass nigga, Jungle
Now we babies, cause growing up it was just us
No uncles or 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 your 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 dad's swag, it's George strut
Stay flyest, they want to know what in your diet
be surprised if they want to check your shit and your vomit
Tell them you let it marinate, they you made them a promise
No matter what they do, you just a man of honor
I'm a street corner nigga, New York Knicks
sipper, pass it out, might blow it with you
It the Truman show
It's the show
Ask the F.B.I. at his cubicle
Chews on his pencil eraser with to erase you
Young go and get your paper, I got love

Love, I'll you love
I've fire with you long enough
Is that all you It's not love
That's up, but I saved your soul
Roll up
that up