Luyện nghe bài hát Gold

[Intro: Man]

Shorty, yo that's my word
Oh, y'all smellin piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get caught
Over here, I'm em that's my word that they be blasted
Anything from two-twenty to one-fourty, mine
Y'all niggaz the fuck off
Y'all niggaz ain't for real

[Chorus:

Yo, the fiends coming fast enough
There is no cut pure enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be to YOU

One: Genius]

I'm deep down in the back streets - in the heart of
About to set off something more deep than a
Under the subway, for the train to make noise
So I can blast a and his boys - for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales
Like the of Dow Jones stock
I had to connect to seals, to catch more mil's
Than got birth control pills
I'm in the park, settin up a over blunt fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em
Peeped my convo, the of my condo
And how I changed a nigga name to Doe
And while we set up camp, we got
Put the through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
Snake got on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame, Pan Am flight 103
He got swung on, his was torn, the
kingpin castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played
For playing predator with a glock, he should took out

No neighborhood is enough
There is no that's full enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product be sold to YOU

The fiends ain't coming fast
is no cut that's pure enough
I fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload,
Product must be to YOU

Two: Genius]

It's that
I supply all my troops with mega
Big apes, and spread em out like on a farm
to get CREAM, sometimes they repaint the
Like the last episode on gates and niggaz
plant bombs til the from the blast becomes thick
and flows through all they knew, gun sick
His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay
Mad sick, on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, out to hurt
For instance, off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock airports and next extort
some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends
Up in the ski resorts, up in
move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my
Who promised his moms a mansion mad rooms
She died, and he still put a hundred in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid closed doors
And organized crime and drug wars

The fiends ain't coming enough
There is no cut that's enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
Product must be to YOU

No neighborhood is rough
There is no that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
Product must be to YOU

The peers come is tight enough
There is no niggaz that's up
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and
Product be sold... to YOU