Luyện nghe bài hát They Don't Want None

[Featuring: & Pharrell]

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

(They don't none)
Don't make a nigga Glocks in the shots
Spin black ghost around the block
(They don't none)
We got for days
a bitch chills and thrills for days
Know I
(Let 'em some)
Ace of Spades by the
Cush by the ounces, on the mountains
(In a I'm)
We bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Money uh

out the cooker, bein' busy for the pussy
In the kitchen the cook of blood yea, then you rough us
You fuckin' hookers, y'all a of Ashton Kutcher's
With the finger tag backs, you jackin' that
Yo Game, I'm at these cop who turned shote us
Imagine that, mad a fuckin' life happen at
You's the only one there, I
Stuck the blood cryin'
I'm in Belize with Game when these shots fired in 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' with me, I'm the best

(They want none)
Don't make a nigga pull Glocks in the
Spin that black ghost around the
(They need none)
We got for days
Give a bitch chills and for days
Know I
(Let 'em some)
Ace of Spades by the
Cush by the ounces, on the mountains
(In a I'm)
We bringin' the
Yo B, let 'em
Gang uh

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

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

(They don't none)
make a nigga pull Glocks in the shots
Spin black ghost around the block
(They don't 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, mill on the
(In a I'm)
We the fuck
Yo B, let 'em
Money