Luyện nghe bài hát Don't Need Your Love

[Intro - The
Yo Havoc, I'm too to the edge on this one nigga
I ain't jump though, I'ma keep it raw gutter
Yo Prodigy, you know I need you on this one

[Verse 1 - The
I got shit on my chest, I confess
Last I was the nigga that shot up your projects
Now I'm back in the hood, with in the Pyrex
Tan khakis and them Nike Airs with the dyed
I was forced to this life, forced to bust my chrome
My pops left me in a foster
I felt like Quik now that Mausberg gone
So I hop in the SS without the Mossberg holmes
I've been rappin' for a year and a half, my life is
Put the gun in his mouth, he gon' the steel
to Compton, I got stripes for real
Before Dre, before the ice, before the deal, I was killed
Like before the Death Row deal
I got shot over two pounds of weed, still ain't them niggaz
But Karma come quicker for a on the other side of the gun
somethin I gotta teach my son

[Chorus - Evans]
I need your love, no no no no
I don't your love
Need it, I want it, I don't need it
I don't need your love, no I need your love
I need your love
Cause, the, game, don't,

[Verse 2 - The
I heard they got Bloods in New now
Red rags in Uptown Harlem now, I need love
Front at the Knicks game, new chick, French name
New car, new house, and sometimes friends
And you need that love, when you G's like us
And your piece is similar to Biggie's
And your life story is to 50's
they hate you, then they love you, then they hate you again
What the do it take for a gangsta to win?
No mics, no +Unsigned Hype+, nigga The Source
Plus awards I don't need
And them niggaz the same air as me
Actin' like don't bleed
We don't the same speed, this a Continental T
That's a case of Armadale, this a suite
So I'ma in my own sorrows
Live life, fuck tomorrow, nigga reality is

[Verse 3 - The
I was gassed up, Murder Inc., passed up
Sat in Daddy's with Black Rob and Lou and asked Puff
Now the game set in stone, the Muniz set in stones
Dre cut me a check, I'm
Tryin' to be the king of the streets, niggaz'll wet throne
But I got nieces to feed, two to please
So I through the city like the ghost of E
Gotta put back where it's 'sposed to be
Nuttin' between all my that's close to me
In the streets two fellas packin' toast for me
I'm 'posed to be, got all the critics my pivot
On my block in the coupe kites from prison
I got niggaz doin' in prison
All my fallen soldiers is one of the we pour out liquor
So song is for Ms. Wallace, Afeni Shakur
And all the mothers of sons that went out in the war