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 know the truth
I get you kidnapped and raped and off a roof
You could nod your head to like 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 yours
Think he religious? he got shot in the cross
Styles, bitch 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 heard about the trouble, I start 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 negative
I crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm better than niggas
You not, I'll look at your man and level a nigga
If you think a rapper's why don't you give me his name
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 than
If I left the gun home, 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 pray for your
I got my niggas in the crib, you oughta for your wife

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 what I
J:
S: I use my left hand I'm loadin the shells
J:
S: 'cause I it aint right, that's why I'm blowin a L

[Styles
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 million dollar bail, I'ma get it in
I sell crack like it's '88, I in the past
You know the P the gun, live in the Maz'
Tell show me the money and gimme the stash
I like and pineapple, fifties of hash
Hundreds of 'dro, wear my clothes a in a row
Sleep on the floor, me right next to the dog
I'm Holiday Styles, and that's what the for
And I won't 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 jewels from the old timers, the cards
But aint part of the plans
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 platinum but gas him up
I get his length and his and get his casket cut
I don't with the snakes and fakes
But I deal with the comas and wakes, I don't mistakes
Double R now bitch you oughta know ghost
Blow up face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke