Luyện nghe bài hát I Ain't Havin' That

They like us
up
They like us
They gotta like us fuck them son

Starang forever Wu Tang my crew brings drama
Hangin' ass upside down by ya shoe strings
Smoke, tell 'em how we doin'
the whole shit just to big up my newness

(Now, by all means)
I do a show in New
And get wit b'out it it Mystikal
(Starang, we been you)
Last year ATL we got physical

I can't talk, now, read it in the interview
(While up in D&D)
I caught two and stitches
I was still gettin' in the tunnel takin' pictures
In the mazda to 'Kris, I Got Next'
I hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex

Aiyo, shit goes
Time to throw down, show up a showdown
So, down low, now, I'm low
Hold down the fort, now wit a fo'
down ya whole town first go round

Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll
When I dig in ya and take all the dope out
Lay ya out now and don't pronounce one word
the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down

Tired of asses, takin' shit for a joke
Now, watch you'll gat pointed at yo door
Act like you now
We be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt

I ain't that
I ain't havin'
I havin' that
I ain't that

Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two to the Baja
Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug
I ain't got to because I did it
Run the rap when I was scrappin'

On these motherfuckin' mean streets of gun clappin'
I ain't got to front, I it happen
Strictly snappin' necks, macs and techs
Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the

Yo, matter fact, here's a list of of the shit I ain't havin'
First of all there be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man
I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I havin' shit
Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why?
(Why?)

Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister guy? Say hi to the bad guy
Four horsemen head the force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up
(Speed)
a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'

Do the research feet hurt from half-steppin'
Bitin' my shit a make your hurt
Word is Jovi B you wildin'
My dick don't out, my high stop ridin'
(My dick)

Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats that
(I ain't that, I ain't havin' that)
Run up in the piece think you gone that fuck that
(I ain't that, I ain't havin' that)

U.S. Marshall's at my crib, ta take me back, fuck that
(I ain't havin' that, I havin' that)
We could it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that
(I havin' that, I ain't havin' that)

Yo, yo, ya at?
To all my peoples Hennessey off
Give a toast to my MFC
While you waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation

Wit some groundbreakin' shit leave the town thinking
When I cock back my pistol, back and whistle
For my niggas to hold me because this here 'bout to get hit dude
We miss you, stick a niggas and his fool clique
I gotta full clip for you and all of ya

U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, left is caught up on my pillow
Eat a dick 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag
MFC keep it
(Keep it cookin')

We wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn
Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, the sha sha
Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the
(Now, we the spot)

and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass
You niggaz ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass
Doin' the Macarana 2 pounds of hash
(We havin' that)

I ain't that
I ain't that
I havin' that
I ain't havin'
I ain't that

You don't got no wins in mi
My shit's proper, you still my kielbasa
hilshire I still fire from helicopters
Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the

Clock ya comin' from the precinct operas
Met you at ya crib from the side, I dropped ya
Knocked ya, out ya mouth when I popped ya
you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa

Yo, live on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that
(I ain't havin' that, I havin' that)
Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back that
(I ain't that, I ain't havin that)

Y'all niggaz think y'all come around here flashin' track, fuck that
(I havin' that, I ain't havin' that)
And if you owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that
(I ain't havin' that, I havin' that)

Son, you know they stand me
'Cuz my crew pack like Miami
Ran for these rappaz outside of the
They be killin' me, how they be grillin' me

'Cuz shorty wop just be feelin' me
Could it be my name or my big chain?
Now, we in the airport on our way to soul train
I got on the West coast
(West side)

That meet me at the airport, carryin' in they trench coats
In business class, eatin' toast and coffee
Tell the to back up off me we on y'all
Warned ya but still couldn't wait for the all-time great
William H. up

And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck
(I havin' that, I ain't havin' that)
You just can't if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that
(I ain't that, I ain't havin' that)

Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, that
(I ain't that, I ain't havin' that)
Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell ass crack, fuck that

And when you that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life
98 shit, H. Duren, Doc Holiday