Luyện nghe bài hát I Ain't Havin' That

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

Starang forever like Wu Tang my brings drama
Hangin' your ass upside down by ya strings
Smoke, tell 'em how we this
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 missin' you)
Last year ATL we 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' bitches in the tunnel pictures
In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got
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
Hold the fort, now wit a fo' pound
Blow down ya whole first go round

Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll
When I dig in ya pockets and all the dope out
Lay ya gold out now and don't one word
the fuck 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 havin'
I ain't havin'
I ain't havin'
I havin' that

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

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

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 havin' shit
Run yo' mouth, you get in it, why? Why?
(Why?)

Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister guy? Say hi to the bad guy
Four head 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 hurt from half-steppin'
Bitin' my shit a your teeth hurt
Word is Jovi B you wildin'
My don't stay out, my high stop ridin'
(My dick)

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

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

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

Wit some groundbreakin' shit leave the town thinking
When I cock my pistol, drop back and whistle
For my niggas to hold me down because 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, 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, the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha
with 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 freak
the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash
(We ain't that)

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

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

ya comin' from the precinct singin' 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 that, I ain't 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 here flashin' track, that
(I ain't havin' that, I havin' that)
And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck
(I havin' that, I ain't havin' that)

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

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

That meet me at the airport, 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 still couldn't wait for the all-time great
H. word up

And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, that
(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 like ass crack, that

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