Luyện nghe bài hát I Ain't Havin' That

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

Starang forever like Wu my crew brings drama
Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe
Smoke, tell 'em how we this
Stop the whole just to big up my newness

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

I can't talk, now, about 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, goes down
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 quickly be switched, bitch, and frown
When I dig in ya and take all the dope out
Lay ya out now and don't pronounce one word
Shut the up, probably cryin' hold down

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

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

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

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

Yo, matter fact, a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'
First of all 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 nice Say hi to the bad guy
horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up
(Speed)
Like a of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'

Do the your feet hurt from half-steppin'
Bitin' my a make your teeth hurt
Word is bond Jovi B you
My don't stay 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 dead that fuck that
(I ain't havin' that, I havin' that)

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

Yo, yo, ya at?
To all my Hennessey passed off
a toast to my whole MFC
While you clowns waitin', is shakin' the foundation

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

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

We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape central Brooklyn
Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, the sha sha
with the blast CC4 to blow the door
(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 over 2 pounds of hash
(We ain't that)

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

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

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

Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write 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 gon' around here flashin' track, fuck that
(I ain't 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 they can't stand me
'Cuz my crew heat like Miami
Ran for rappaz outside of the Grammy's
They be killin' me, how they be grillin' me

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

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

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

Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a 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 MFC, you're MFC for life
98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc