Luyện nghe bài hát They Don't Want None

[Featuring: Shyne &

Far as dough, I'm stuffed with cash, popping like tags
Rappin' in Belize, Louis duffle bags
Guess who home, my Shyne
Straight out the house to a brick house
Money flowin' it's Chris Dale
Shine on it styles, I'm hood as Kid Styles
My Clair Bomber jacket for the pit stop, it is now
You boys don't want none, release on the blood
They here by, they go
Goin' no. 1 with the gang no. 2
Start track no. 3 back to MV
(Gots the chill) I stack a mill to the ceiling
Ten outside, meeting gangstas in the building
One nigga can't stop this motherfuckin'
Hell on earth of repercussion, the blood is spelt on my
Cowboys and Indians, the pilgrims
Infiltrate my near every cat buildin'

(They don't none)
Don't make a nigga pull in the shots
Spin that black ghost the block
(They don't none)
We got pills for
Give a bitch chills and thrills for
Know I
(Let 'em some)
Ace of by the fountains
Cush by the ounces, on the mountains
(In a I'm)
We the fuck
Yo B, let 'em
Money uh

Fish out the cooker, bein' for the pussy
In the kitchen with the cook of blood yea, then you us
You hookers, y'all a bunch of Ashton Kutcher's
the finger tag backs, you ain't jackin' that
Yo Game, I'm at these cop who turned shote us
Imagine that, you're mad a fuckin' happen at
You's the one there, I swear
Stuck the blood cryin'
I'm in Belize with Game when these shots fired in silence
motherfuckaz singin'
I've see the paperwork, you a fuckin' pigeon, no
Count to the ceilin'
Jackson shit, Vic, Vag, Vellin
Hopin' every they creepin'
County fuckin' with me, I'm the best

(They want none)
make a nigga pull Glocks in the shots
Spin that black ghost around the
(They don't none)
We got pills for
Give a bitch chills and for days
I mean?
(Let 'em some)
Ace of by the fountains
Cush by the ounces, on the mountains
(In a I'm)
We bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Gang uh

Check it, what the clot?
Nigga blood got Ferrari's and Lambo's outside the drug spot
Survived five shots, you know
When niggas died, they cried
they had to pay for that
Payers took it, where the at?
I just won a racks on blackjack and you know I'm 'bout to blow that
They don't make niggas where you from
Sick 45, I'm 'bout to finger the trigga till them hollows come
shit? Swallow one
You move me
I niggas like in old Italian movies
I'm sayin', I live, you
I come in the restaurant with my shirt off and spit in your spaghetti sauce
Boss, my pocket's fatter than my nigga
Wipe this milkatrone off my with my Louis glove

I'm a California
Bust your cerebellum, go and tell 'em

(They don't none)
Don't make a nigga Glocks in the shots
Spin black ghost around the block
(They need none)
We got for days
Give a chills and thrills for days
Know I
(Let 'em some)
Ace of Spades by the
Cush by the ounces, mill on the
(In a I'm)
We bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Gang