Luyện nghe bài hát Holiday

L o x
It stop
It goin, and goin, and goin, and goin

[styles
You heard it from the p, you know it's the truth
I get you kidnapped and raped and thrown off a
You could nod head to this like it's only a rap
'cause when bullets hit your ass I'm like it's only a gat
I need a funeral to feel good, I'm hopin it's
Think you delicious, heard he got in the cross
Holiday styles, bitch I broke most of the
Fuck with the poor, so flip to the boots, stick to the
Do it takes just to give it a slue
And missin a tooth, but of 'em chipped, toaster is gripped
You heard about the trouble, I start most of the
I squeeze ain't no controllin the wrist
And niggas leave the when the hear the p blowin his whis
I'm an ignorant and negative
I sell crack, guns, pop shit, and say I'm better than niggas
You think not, look at your man and level a nigga
If you think a rapper's better why don't you me his name
So I can run up on him, him up and give you his frame
When it comes to the streets, I'm the nigga to
Five eight and quarters, but I'm bigger than y'all
If I left the gun home, i'ma give you the
I'm the devil in the flesh, I give you the lord
It make no sense for you to pray for your life
I got my niggas in the crib, you oughta pray for wife

[chorus: jadakiss and
[jadakiss:] uh huh,
[styles:] I gotta make it to heaven for goin through
[j:]
[s:] and I don't care if I sell, know what I sell
[j:]
[s:] I use my hand when I'm loadin the shells
holiday
[s:] I know it ain't right, that's why I'm blowin a l

[styles
Yo, I do it all for my niggas, even rob wit a
Get shot, die in his arm, and give him my
a million dollar bail, i'ma get it in cash
I crack like it's '88, I live in the past
You know the p carry the gun, in the mask
Tell niggas show me the money and gimme the
I malibu and pineapple, fifty's of hash
Hundred's of dro, my clothes a week in a row
on the floor, catch me right next to the dog
I'm styles, and that's what the weaponry for
And I won't blow for the fact that I'm hard
But I'm good ten million in the back of the car
Either that or get life and the rack in the yard
jewels from the old timers, stashin the cards
But jail ain't part of the
I keep weight on the 'cause I feel I get further with grams
In my few bars, I run through niggas like my last few cars
And crash 'em up, the boy went platinum but don't gas him up
I get his length and his and get his casket cut
I don't deal with the snakes and
But I deal with the comas and wakes, I don't mistakes
Double r now bitch you oughta know i'ma
up your face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke