Luyện nghe bài hát Holiday

L o x
It don't
It goin, and goin, and goin, and goin

[styles
You heard it from the p, you oughta it's the truth
I get you and raped and thrown off a roof
You could nod your head to 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 yours
Think you delicious, he got shot in the cross
styles, bitch I broke most of the laws
Fuck with the poor, so to the boots, stick to the truth
Do anything it takes just to give it a
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, is gripped
You about the trouble, I start most of the shit
When I ain't no controllin the wrist
And niggas leave the room when the the p blowin his whis
I'm an ignorant and negative
I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm better than
You think not, I'll look at man and level a nigga
If you think a rapper's better why you give me his name
So I can run up on him, him up and give you his frame
When it to the streets, I'm the nigga to call
Five eight and quarters, but I'm bigger than y'all
If I the gun home, i'ma give you the sword
I'm the devil in the flesh, I can't you the lord
It don't make no sense for you to for your life
I got my niggas in the crib, you oughta pray for wife

[chorus: and styles]
[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 I'm loadin the shells
holiday
[s:] 'cause I know it right, that's why I'm blowin a l

paniro]
Yo, I do it all for my niggas, rob wit a bomb
Get shot, die in his arm, and give him my
a million dollar bail, i'ma get it in cash
I sell like it's '88, I live in the past
You know the p the gun, live in the mask
Tell show me the money and gimme the stash
I like malibu and pineapple, fifty's of
Hundred's of dro, my clothes a week in a row
on the floor, catch me right next to the dog
I'm holiday styles, and that's the weaponry for
And I probably blow for the fact that I'm hard
But I'm with ten million in the back of the car
that or get life and lift the rack in the yard
Gettin jewels from the old timers, the cards
But ain't part of the plans
I keep weight on the scale 'cause I feel I get further with
In my last few bars, I run niggas like my last few cars
And 'em up, the boy mighta went platinum but don't gas him up
I get his and his width and get his casket cut
I don't deal with the and fakes
But I deal with the comas and wakes, I make mistakes
Double r now bitch you oughta know i'ma
Blow up your face, blow up the coke, and up the smoke