Luyện nghe bài hát Gossip

I hate gossip and I don't walk around lookin' for it, you
But yesterday it to just wander on till it found me
You know like, gossip found me, why don't you try provin' it
How? You don't know how to it?
Well, what would you do is
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,

Stop, on a nigga that is a weak emotion, the lady of a nigga
And you can get like ya waitin' on a nigga
Put a bag and an apron on the nigga

I my all behind the mic
But you never see, if you sit behind the light
You don't have to me to win the title fight
But I'm gone wear championship belt so tight

And if I'm wrong, there is no
And if I'm wrong, there is no
I'm tryna to be
But you bitches in my hair to fuckin' pull lice

And my flow is rare, other rappers nice
These rappers bark, some of 'em even bite
But I'm more bright, I give the game sight
So before you dim the light you just might, wanna

Think it
(Think it over)
Ooh, think it
(Think it baby, baby)

Get 'em
Stop, analyzin'
You should realize what I am and start
Legitimate, I got the heart of the lion
I'm confident like fuck 'em all pull out my dick and it

My sick, so sick, it's like my shit is dyin'
It a lot in my city, because my city's cryin'
Because my city's dyin' still I from all of that
I am a pion-eer, near Zion

God, not them
Steer my Robin Coupe through the streets of the and soowoop
And, then I leave blood in a boot, I a blood bath
Sorry a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at?

I'm twisted like the strings on a shoe, no bug that
I'm like the strings on a boot
Now at New at

I your pop stole me like a bus pass
So in possession, ah ah, I must ask

Hey, haven't I been to you?
(Think it over)
Tell me, I been sweet to you?

Drag my name the mud
I come out cast away stones
I won't blink
A gun is not a math
I won't think

Just leave you dead like the mink my sink
believe in me, don't believe me
I've graduated from
And made it to

My flow is pasta
it and eat it
But I'm need g's
If I'm bakin' the

You niggas want
I a steak and uh, we be
Lost in Amsterdam or Jamaica we be
Hard body nigga, just it easy
All my paper, 'bout my paper like Eazy

Why do rappers? Why do
Lie to fans, lie to rappers, lot of
Lie like actin', cut the mothafuckin'
Cut the check nigga fuck props
And it out to Mr.Hip Hop

I'm not I'm alive