Luyện nghe bài hát Holiday

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

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

[chorus: jadakiss and
[jadakiss:] uh huh,
[styles:] I gotta it to heaven for goin through hell
holiday
[s:] and I don't care if I sell, y'all know I sell
[j:]
[s:] I use my left hand when I'm the shells
[j:]
[s:] 'cause I know it ain't right, 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 sell crack like '88, I live in the past
You know the p the gun, live in the mask
Tell niggas show me the and gimme the stash
I like malibu and pineapple, of hash
of dro, wear my clothes a week in a row
Sleep on the floor, catch me right to the dog
I'm holiday styles, and that's what the for
And I probably blow for the fact that I'm hard
But I'm good with ten in the back of the car
Either that or get and lift the rack in the yard
Gettin from the old timers, stashin the cards
But jail ain't of the plans
I keep weight on the scale 'cause I feel I get with grams
In my last few bars, I run through niggas my last few cars
And crash 'em up, the boy mighta went but don't gas him up
I get his length and his and get his casket cut
I don't deal with the and fakes
But I deal with the comas and wakes, I don't mistakes
Double r now bitch you oughta i'ma ghost
up your face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke