Luyện nghe bài hát They Don't Want None

[Featuring: & Pharrell]

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

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

Fish out the cooker, bein' for the pussy
In the kitchen with the cook of blood yea, then you us
You fuckin' hookers, y'all a bunch of Kutcher's
With the finger tag backs, you jackin' that
Yo Game, I'm at these cop who turned shote us
that, you're mad a fuckin' life happen at
You's the one there, I swear
Stuck the clut cryin'
I'm in Belize with Game when these shots fired in this
Y'all singin'
see the paperwork, you a fuckin' pigeon, no kisses
Count to the ceilin'
Jackson shit, Vic, Vag, Vellin
Hopin' every they creepin'
fuckin' with me, I'm the best livin'

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

Check it, what the blood
Nigga blood got Ferrari's and parked outside the drug spot
five shots, you know that
When bitch niggas died, cried
Cause had to pay for that
Payers it, where the blow at?
I just won a racks on blackjack and you know I'm 'bout to blow that
They don't make real niggas you from
Sick 45, I'm 'bout to finger fuck the trigga till them hollows
Talk Swallow one
You move me
I disrespect 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 than my nigga Ross
Wipe this milkatrone off my mouth my Louis glove

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

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