Luyện nghe bài hát Cartel Gathering

Yo, yo, yo, to ride, nigga, yeah

Aiyyo, we four or five niggaz with on
Up top gated up, big tables got the on
Blowin' on saxophones, the band is
So much ice on, looks like my been cut

And we just made it from Beijing
Seen my jeweler, told him melt the bird down to rings
But then the music stopped, stood up
Before the speech, he had raise they cups

He said, "I been in spots where I can't even it"
"Don't drink the Cris', Ghost mighta in it"
Romanian dude, black down, pourin' the
Face to the side like Rocky

And Strahan came through with his ring
He said, "Yikes", I pulled out my monster bling
Don't be of the New York street talk
I switch gear all day, bro, you do on your peach porch

The chairs is suede, the walls is
Marquise ballroom, so I felt it
Fat asses in fishnets, shakin' they
Playin' they pussy, middle finger drippin', I smelt it

Poker tables, joints just for rap niggaz
Me and Sheek, walkin' around slappin' niggaz
There go Rae, go P
Yo Chop,

Sam Cooke writin' hand, all of my lightning,
to rob niggaz in Sam's, buy shams
For my dude's baby shoe or booster baby, with steel
Eatin' Jamaican under the wheel

You know the deal, somethin' then blow
Went from a O to a low, little apartment in
Gold was my motto, numbers is what?
Had it in me, rolled down with coke

That's the '90s, Chef era over America
Bag Ugly up, make her Ms. Guerrera
Pinky in sweaters, cortex burnin' the mic booth
Travel right my heritage

Them old niggaz is me
Taught me how to read, get skee'd, everybody a ki
Yo, I do this a natural movement
Catch me by the [Incomprehensible], on me, fuck it, I'm losin' it

Yeah, yo, I did it my way, off on the highway
Greek statues on both of the driveway
Word to the on the diesel
The way these niggaz is either they got cramps or they evil

One go, we all go, D-boy but hard dough
Cashmere and suede
On top of the Wallo's
45 government edition clippers, hollows

My clientele is supreme and it's
That I'm built for the Link if it's Cuban
I'm a pioneer, I'm not a vet
'Last Kiss' is a French one, it's not a

Movin' powder, and a lot of wet
You're gonna die, that's a promise not a
Yeah, but I ain't the chatterin'
'Cause I'd just rather them
This is a gatherin', what?