Luyện nghe bài hát They Don't Want None

[Featuring: Shyne &

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

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

Fish out the cooker, busy for the pussy
In the kitchen the cook of blood yea, then you rough us
You fuckin' hookers, y'all a bunch of Kutcher's
With the finger tag backs, you ain't that
Yo Game, I'm laughin' at these cop who shote us
Imagine that, mad a fuckin' life happen at
You's the one there, I swear
Stuck the blood clut
I'm in Belize Game when these shots fired in this silence
Y'all singin'
I've see the paperwork, you a fuckin' pigeon, no
Count to the ceilin'
George shit, Vic, Vag, Vellin
Hopin' every cell they
County with me, I'm the best livin'

(They want none)
Don't make a pull Glocks in the shots
Spin that ghost around the block
(They don't 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, on the mountains
(In a I'm)
We bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Money uh

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

I'm a felon
Bust cerebellum, skateboard go and tell 'em

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