Luyện nghe bài hát They Don't Want None

[Featuring: Shyne &

Far as dough, I'm stuffed with cash, popping like fuckle
in Belize, Louis Vuitton duffle bags
Guess who home, my Shyne
Straight out the house to a brick house
Money flowin' like it's Dale
Shine on it styles, I'm hood as Kid Styles
My Clair jacket perfect for the pit stop, it is now
You boys don't want none, on the blood Glock
here by, they go numb
Goin' plan no. 1 the gang no. 2
Start 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 stop this motherfuckin'
Hell on earth of repercussion, the blood is spelt on my
Cowboys and Indians, the pilgrims
Infiltrate my squad every cat buildin'

(They want 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 bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Gang uh

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

(They want none)
Don't make a nigga Glocks in the shots
that black ghost 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, mill on the
(In a I'm)
We the fuck
Yo B, let 'em
Money uh

it, what the blood clot?
Nigga blood got Ferrari's and parked outside the drug spot
Survived five shots, you know
When bitch died, they cried
Cause they had to pay for
Payers took it, where the at?
I just won a hundred on blackjack and you know I'm 'bout to blow that
They don't make real where you from
Sick 45, I'm to finger fuck the trigga 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 fuckin' spaghetti sauce
Boss, my pocket's than my nigga Ross
Wipe this milkatrone off my with my Louis glove

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

(They want none)
Don't make a nigga Glocks in the shots
Spin that black ghost around the
(They need none)
We got pills for
Give a chills and thrills 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