Luyện nghe bài hát Holiday

L-O-X
It stop
It goin, and goin, and goin, and goin

[Styles
You heard it 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 these bullets hit yo' ass I'm like only a gat
I need a funeral to good, I'm hopin it's yours
Think he Heard he got shot in the cross
Styles, bitch I broke most of the laws
Fuck with the Porsche or flip to the boots, to the truth
Do anything it takes just to get me loot
And a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is gripped
You heard the trouble, I start most of the shit
When I squeeze aint no controllin the
And leave the room when they hear the P flowin to Swizz
I'm an and negative nigga
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 better why don't you give me his name
So I can run up on him, tear him up and give you his
it comes to the streets, I'm the nigga to call
Five eight and three quarters, but I'm bigger than
If I left the gun home, I'ma give you the
I'm the devil in the flesh, I can't you the Lord
It don't no sense for you to pray for your life
I got my niggas in the crib, you oughta pray for wife

Jadakiss and Styles
Jadakiss: Uh huh,
Styles: I gotta make it to heaven for goin through
J:
S: And I care if I sell, y'all know what I sell
J:
S: I use my hand when I'm loadin the shells
J:
S: I know it aint right, that's why I'm blowin a L

[Styles
Yo..
I do it all for my niggas, ride wit a bomb
Get shot, die in his arm, and give him my
It's a million dollar bail, I'ma get it in
I sell like it's '88, I live in the past
You know the P the gun, live in the Maz'
niggas show me the money and gimme the stash
I like and pineapple, fifties of hash
Hundreds of 'dro, wear my a week in a row
Sleep on the floor, catch me right to the dog
I'm Styles, and that's what the weaponry for
And I probably won't blow for the fact I'm hard
But I'm good with ten million in the of the car
Either that or get life and lift the in the yard
Gettin jewels from the old timers, stashin the
But jail aint part of the
I keep weight on the scale 'cause I feel I get further 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 the snakes 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, up the coke, and blow up the smoke