Luyện nghe bài hát I Ain't Havin' That

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

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

(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, read about it in the
(While up in D&D)
I two and three stitches
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 goes
Time to throw down, show up this a
So, low, now, I'm low down
Hold down the fort, now wit a fo'
Blow down ya town 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 gold out now and don't one word
the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down

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

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

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

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

Yo, matter fact, here's a 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 havin' shit
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 spliff of torch, man, this shit scorchin'

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

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

U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck
(I ain't that, I ain't havin' that)
We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck
(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 shit that'll leave the town 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 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 of bread, you fuckin' fag
MFC keep it
(Keep it cookin')

We emerge wit the 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 lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak
Doin' the Macarana 2 pounds of hash
(We ain't that)

I havin' that
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
From I still fire from helicopters
Watch the birdie, I him tell the tale to the coppers

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

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

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

Son, you know can't stand me
'Cuz my crew pack heat like
Ran for these rappaz of the Grammy's
They be me, how they willingly 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 niggaz on the coast
(West side)

meet 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 wait for the great
H. word up

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

Son, don't fuck her raw, a jimmy hat, fuck 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 know that when MFC, you're MFC for life
98 shit, H. Duren, Doc Holiday