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 brick house to a brick
flowin' like it's Chris Dale
Shine on it swiss styles, I'm hood as Kid
My Clair Bomber jacket for the pit stop, it is now
You boys don't want none, release on the blood
They by, they go numb
plan no. 1 with the gang no. 2
Start no. 3 back 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 this killin'
Hell on earth of repercussion, the blood is spelt on my
Cowboys and Indians, the pilgrims
my squad near every cat buildin'

(They don't none)
Don't make a nigga pull in the shots
Spin that black ghost the block
(They need none)
We got for days
Give a bitch chills and thrills for
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 uh

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

(They want none)
make a nigga pull Glocks in the shots
Spin that black around the block
(They need none)
We got for days
Give a bitch chills and for days
Know I
(Let 'em some)
Ace of Spades by the
by the ounces, mill on the mountains
(In a I'm)
We bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Money uh

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

I'm a felon
Bust your cerebellum, skateboard go and '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 pills for
a bitch chills and thrills for days
Know I
(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