Luyện nghe bài hát They Don't Want None

[Featuring: Shyne &

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

(They don't 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 chills and thrills for days
Know I
(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 uh

Fish out the cooker, bein' for the pussy
In the with the cook of blood yea, then you rough us
You fuckin' hookers, y'all a bunch of Kutcher's
With the 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
the only one there, I swear
Stuck the clut cryin'
I'm in Belize with Game when these fired in this silence
Y'all motherfuckaz
I've see the paperwork, you a fuckin' pigeon, no
clood to the ceilin'
George Jackson shit, Vic, Vag,
Hopin' every cell creepin'
County fuckin' me, I'm the best livin'

(They don't none)
Don't make a nigga pull in the shots
that black ghost around the block
(They don't none)
We got pills for
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
Money uh

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

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

(They don't none)
Don't make a nigga pull Glocks in the
Spin that black around 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, on the mountains
(In a I'm)
We bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Gang