Luyện nghe bài hát I Ain't Havin' That

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

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

(Now, by all means)
I do a in New Orleans
And get wit it 'bout it Mystikal
(Starang, we missin' you)
Last year ATL we got physical

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

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

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

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

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

Shit, yo' be asses, I got two passes to the Baja
Then turn into we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege
I got to brag because I did it
Run before the rap when I was

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

Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I havin'
of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man
I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin'
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 the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up
(Speed)
Like a of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'

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

Son, niggaz ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that
(I ain't that, I ain't havin' that)
Run up in the piece think you gone dead that that
(I havin' 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 take it ol' 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 passed off
a toast to my whole MFC
While you clowns waitin', is shakin' the foundation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Son, you know they can't me
'Cuz my crew pack heat like
Ran for these rappaz outside of the
They be killin' me, how willingly be grillin' me

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

And if ya call and I'm not then you can call me back, fuck that
(I ain't havin' that, I havin' 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 fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck
(I ain't that, I ain't havin' that)
Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck

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