Luyện nghe bài hát I Ain't Havin' That

They like us
up
They like us
They ain't gotta like us them son

Starang forever like Wu my crew brings drama
your 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 in New Orleans
And get wit b'out it 'bout it
(Starang, we been you)
year ATL we almost got physical

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

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

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

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

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

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

On these motherfuckin' mean of Brownsville gun clappin'
I got to front, I make it happen
Strictly snappin' necks, macs and techs
Head all over, deuce, deuce, the feds

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

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

Do the your feet hurt from half-steppin'
Bitin' my a make your teeth hurt
is bond Jovi B you wildin'
My dick stay out, my high stop ridin'
(My dick)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me by a wip ass
You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal mass
Doin' the Macarana 2 pounds of hash
(We ain't that)

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

You got no wins in mi casa
My shit's proper, you suckin' my kielbasa
From hilshire I fire from helicopters
Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the

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

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

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

Son, you know can't stand me
'Cuz my crew pack like Miami
Ran for these rappaz of the Grammy's
They be me, how they willingly be grillin' me

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

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

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

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

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