Luyện nghe bài hát Holiday

L-O-X
It don't
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 thrown off a
You could nod your head to this it's only a rap
cause when bullets hit yo' ass I'm like it's only a gat
I need a funeral to feel good, I'm hopin it's
he religious? Heard he got shot in the cross
Holiday Styles, I broke most of the laws
Fuck with the Porsche or to the boots, stick to the truth
Do anything it takes to get me this loot
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is
You about the trouble, I start most of the shit
When I squeeze aint no the wrist
And niggas leave the when they hear the P flowin to Swizz
I'm an ignorant and nigga
I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm than niggas
You not, I'll look at your man and level a nigga
If you a rapper's better why don't you give me his name
So I can run up on him, tear him up and give you his
When it comes to the streets, I'm the nigga to
eight and three 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 give you the
It don't no sense for you to pray for your life
I got my in the crib, you oughta pray for your wife

Jadakiss and Styles
Jadakiss: Uh huh,
Styles: I gotta make it to for goin through hell
J:
S: And I don't care if I sell, know what I sell
J:
S: I use my left hand I'm loadin the shells
J:
S: 'cause I know it aint right, that's why I'm a L

Paniro]
Yo..
I do it all for my niggas, even ride wit a
Get shot, die in his arm, and give him my
It's a dollar bail, I'ma get it in cash
I crack like it's '88, I live in the past
You know the P the gun, live in the Maz'
Tell niggas show me the and gimme the stash
I like Malibu and pineapple, fifties of
Hundreds of 'dro, my clothes a week in a row
on the floor, catch me right next to the dog
I'm Holiday Styles, and 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 or get life and lift the rack in the yard
Gettin from the old timers, stashin the cards
But jail aint 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 like my 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 deal with the snakes and fakes
But I deal with the comas and wakes, I don't mistakes
Double R now you oughta know I'ma ghost
up your face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke