Luyện nghe bài hát We Don't Play About Rubberbands

x2]
We don't play about the work and the bands (x3)
Fuck with my bands, its a murder man

[Verse 1: Pat]
If its money on the table get wronged and they gone die
Penitentiary chance to get this cash, I'm wrong but a nigga try
Fuck and them snitches, sons of bitches bullets can fly
Choppa bullets [?] like chicken pie pie
If you real like you say you is, the streets tell it no lie
If you phony get fucked a slut, when dunked kicked out good bye
I'm gone always on the low, so my pockets stay high
I got thugs who at triggers, blow one snap my finger you die
Blowing gas from Mexico, that's why my brains at the sky
Talking about something, they good though, Colombian they tie
Call me straight up the banana boat, now I'm gone the town
Making like the Superbowl, each one touchdown

x2]

[Verse J]
My fingers tired, from fifty
Triple bands, only hunnas, I fuck with twenties
Unless they young and they hungry for the dick,
dick, another bitch, drugs
Fucking 2 bitches fore gloves
Yo lost his bitch
I'm walking in on ball shit
Juicy J I talk money, I don't talk
I wan't it all, I don't what the cost is
I'm so fly
I should on Star Trek, and they should bring the show back
Let me show how to swag
Money talk, I promise I your money laugh
I got no bones to pick with my past
All of the niggas owe me money, dead in the
Catching my ashes, from the end of my weed
Rubber bands, my nigga, diamonds is my weed man

x2]

Full lyrics be available upon release. Stay tuned!