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 kidnapped and raped and off a roof
You could nod your 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 funeral to 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 loot
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is
You heard the trouble, I start most of the shit
I squeeze aint no controllin the wrist
And niggas leave the room when they the P flowin to Swizz
I'm an ignorant and negative
I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm better than
You think not, I'll look at your man and a nigga
If you think a rapper's better why you give me his name
So I can run up on him, him up and give you his frame
When it to the streets, I'm the nigga to call
Five eight and three quarters, but I'm bigger than
If I the gun home, I'ma 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 life
I got my niggas in the crib, you pray for your wife

Jadakiss and Styles
Jadakiss: Uh huh,
I gotta 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 know it aint right, that's why I'm a L

Paniro]
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 crack like it's '88, I live in the
You the P carry the gun, live in the Maz'
Tell show me the money and gimme the stash
I like and pineapple, fifties of hash
of 'dro, wear my clothes a week in a row
Sleep on the floor, me right next to the dog
I'm Styles, and that's what the weaponry for
And I probably blow for the fact that I'm hard
But I'm with ten million in the back of the car
Either that or get life and lift the in the yard
Gettin from the old timers, stashin 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 platinum but don't gas him up
I get his and his width and get his casket cut
I don't deal with the snakes and
But I deal with the comas and wakes, I make mistakes
R now bitch you oughta know I'ma ghost
Blow up your face, up the coke, and blow up the smoke