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 nod your head to this like it's only a rap
cause when these bullets hit yo' ass I'm it's only a gat
I need a to feel good, I'm hopin it's yours
Think he Heard he got shot in the cross
Holiday Styles, bitch I broke of the laws
Fuck with the Porsche or flip to the boots, to the truth
Do anything it takes just to get me this
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, is gripped
You heard about the trouble, I most of the shit
When I squeeze no controllin the wrist
And niggas leave the room when 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 think not, I'll at your 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, tear him up and you his frame
When it comes to the streets, I'm the nigga to
Five and three quarters, but I'm bigger than y'all
If I the gun home, I'ma give you the sword
I'm the in the flesh, I can't give 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 your

CHORUS: Jadakiss and
Uh huh, HOLIDAY
Styles: I make it to heaven for goin through hell
J:
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 aint right, that's why I'm a L

[Styles
Yo..
I do it all for my niggas, ride wit a bomb
Get shot, die in his arm, and him my last
It's a dollar bail, I'ma get it in cash
I sell crack like it's '88, I live in the
You know the P carry the gun, live in the
Tell niggas show me the money and the stash
I Malibu and pineapple, fifties of hash
Hundreds of 'dro, my clothes a week in a row
Sleep on the floor, catch me next to the dog
I'm Styles, and that's what the weaponry for
And I probably won't blow for the fact that I'm
But I'm good with ten in the back of the car
Either that or get life and lift the in the yard
jewels from the old timers, stashin the cards
But jail aint of the plans
I keep weight on the scale 'cause I I get further with grams
In my few bars, I run through niggas like my last few cars
And 'em up, the boy mighta went platinum but don't gas him up
I get his length and his width and get his cut
I don't with the snakes and fakes
But I deal the comas and wakes, I don't make mistakes
R now bitch you oughta know I'ma ghost
Blow up face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke