Luyện nghe bài hát Holiday

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

[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 this like only a rap
cause these 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 Heard he got shot in the cross
Holiday Styles, bitch I most of the laws
with the Porsche or flip to the boots, stick to the truth
Do anything it takes to get me this loot
And a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is gripped
You heard about the trouble, I most of the shit
I squeeze aint no controllin the wrist
And niggas leave the when they hear the P flowin to Swizz
I'm an and negative nigga
I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm than niggas
You think not, I'll look at your man and level a
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
Five eight and three quarters, but I'm bigger y'all
If I left the gun home, I'ma you the sword
I'm the devil in the flesh, I give you the Lord
It make no sense for you to pray for your life
I got my niggas in the crib, you oughta for your wife

Jadakiss and Styles
Jadakiss: Uh huh,
Styles: I gotta make it to heaven for goin through
J:
S: And I don't if I sell, y'all know what I sell
J:
S: I use my left hand when I'm the shells
J:
S: I know it aint right, that's why I'm blowin 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
a million dollar bail, I'ma get it in cash
I sell crack like it's '88, I in the past
You the P carry the gun, live in the Maz'
Tell niggas show me the money and gimme the
I like Malibu and pineapple, of hash
Hundreds of 'dro, wear my clothes a 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 I'm hard
But I'm good with ten in the back of the car
Either or get life and lift the rack in the yard
Gettin jewels from the old timers, stashin the
But aint part of the plans
I keep weight on the scale 'cause I feel I get further with
In my few bars, I run through niggas like my last few cars
And crash 'em up, the boy mighta platinum but don't gas him up
I get his and his width and get his casket cut
I don't deal 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