Luyện nghe bài hát Burn (dedication 4)

Uh, on the dresser, work on the stove
I'm sitting on the counter purp out my nose
Red naked, in the bed flexin'
I "bitch I ain't impressed, you must of got the wrong impression"
Uh, I ain't with the BS, I'm flyer PF
Man, we living in hell like a breath
Real niggas with real money, real bitches fake asses
If she don't wanna fuck, I get on my skateboard and I skate her
Money on the table, on the table
Bitch I'm on that syrup, tell hoe: "let go my ego"
And my girlfriend is a choppa, I finger that hoe
I am Tunechi, you had me at "hello"
Uh, top Maybach, clean like Ajax
Man I don't fuck none of you niggas like rednecks
We got that work so and get if we don't know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in apple, what that is? Apple Jacks
Uh, pussy nigga murder you then dance at your funeral
Blood I'll have a nigga his own blood, communion
Wake up like Bone Thugs, call your bluff, pick the phone up
Her titties fake but look real, cubic zirconia's
Run up in house, spare the kids and kill the grown ups
Your bitch call me she hot, Krispy Kreme doughnuts
out to my new hoes, shout out to my old hoes
I'll still wear ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what they gon'
I'm still eating rappers on my fucking break
Bad yellow with a tongue like a snake
I let her suck my dick and then I her to some Drake

And then I let that Kush burn, let that Kush
Yeah I let that Kush
gasoline, bitch
The booth on fire, I'm in getting higher
Young Money, bitch we at the top like

Uh, money on my mind, I thinking 'bout no bitch
I'm talking 'bout that like my motherfuckin' throat itch
Uh, stop stuntin', if you buy your bitch somethin'
Stayed on the same team Tim Duncan
Shit get real, if you scared go to school
And if we it, straight jack it like a padded room
your ass 100 times and stand over you
Lil Tunechi so fly, I got
bitch, AK in my firm grip
Leap if you feeling like Kermit,
Preach, reach and I'll smoke ass like Cheech
I be faded bleach, double barrel, Siamese
I my swisher obese, fuck that bitch like police
Fuck these haters with no grease, you get checked, goatee
Money talks bitch and talks like Robin Leach
That lean got me as Lisa Turtle, ask Screech
Uh, bank card heavy, my like a barbell
My girl got a fat cat, I call shit Garfield
We'll bring the O.K. to your doorbell
We triggers, not coattails, I make lump sums, oatmeal
I'm stuntin', new money
TRUKFIT money, Mountain Dew money, 'em
I get better like wine, I'm fire like cayenne
In the words of my BP, I'll hit a bitch with a car bomb
BOOM!
Lil'
Niggas talk, they ain't talking 'bout shit
Niggas gon' bark, I go Vick
Fuck them on that fuck-shit
Suck a dick for some TRUKFIT

And then I let that Kush burn, let that Kush
Yeah I let Kush burn
gasoline, bitch
The booth on fire, I'm in getting higher
Holla at a nigga if you want that Mayer