Luyện nghe bài hát Holiday

L o x
It stop
It goin, and goin, and goin, and goin

[styles
You it from the p, you oughta know it's the truth
I get you kidnapped and and thrown off a roof
You nod your head to this like it's only a rap
'cause when these hit your ass I'm like it's only a gat
I need a to feel good, I'm hopin it's yours
Think you delicious, he got shot in the cross
styles, bitch I broke most of the laws
Fuck with the poor, so flip to the boots, to the truth
Do anything it takes to give it a slue
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is
You heard the trouble, I start most of the shit
When I squeeze ain't no the wrist
And niggas leave the room when the hear the p blowin his
I'm an ignorant and negative
I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm than niggas
You think not, I'll at your man and level a nigga
If you think a rapper's better why don't you me his name
So I can run up on him, tear him up and you his frame
When it to the streets, I'm the nigga to call
Five eight and three quarters, but I'm than y'all
If I the gun home, i'ma give you the sword
I'm the devil in the flesh, I can't you the lord
It don't make no sense for you to pray for your
I got my niggas in the crib, you pray for your wife

[chorus: jadakiss and
uh huh, holiday
[styles:] I make it to heaven for goin through hell
holiday
[s:] and I don't care if I sell, know what I sell
[j:]
[s:] I use my hand when I'm loadin the shells
[j:]
[s:] 'cause I know it ain't right, that's why I'm a l

[styles
Yo, I do it all for my niggas, even rob wit a
Get shot, die in his arm, and give him my
a million dollar bail, i'ma get it in cash
I sell like it's '88, I live in the past
You know the p carry the gun, in the mask
Tell niggas show me the and gimme the stash
I like malibu and pineapple, fifty's of
Hundred's of dro, wear my a week in a row
Sleep on the floor, catch me next to the dog
I'm holiday styles, and that's what the for
And I won't blow for the fact that I'm hard
But I'm good with ten in the back of the car
Either that or get life and the rack in the yard
Gettin jewels the old timers, stashin the cards
But jail ain't of the plans
I keep weight on the scale 'cause I feel I get with grams
In my last few bars, I run through niggas my last few cars
And 'em up, the boy mighta went platinum but don't gas him up
I get his and his width and get his casket cut
I don't deal with the and fakes
But I deal the comas and wakes, I don't make mistakes
Double r now bitch you oughta know i'ma
up your face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke