Luyện nghe bài hát Burn (dedication 4)

Uh, hammer on the dresser, work on the
I'm sitting on the counter blowing out my nose
Red naked, in the bed flexin'
I say: "bitch I 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 deep
Real niggas with money, real bitches with 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 syrup, tell that hoe: "let go my ego"
And my girlfriend is a choppa, I fuck that hoe
I am Tunechi, you had me at "hello"
Uh, drop top Maybach, like Ajax
Man I don't fuck with none of you niggas like
We got that work so come and get if we know you, you pay tax
I put a in your apple, what that is? Apple Jacks
Uh, pussy nigga I'll murder you dance at your funeral
Blood I'll a nigga drinking his own blood, communion
Wake up like Bone Thugs, I'll 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 when she hot, Krispy Kreme
Shout out to my new hoes, shout out to my old
I'll still wear ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what gon' say?
I'm still eating rappers on my fucking break
Bad yellow bitch with a tongue a snake
I let her my dick and then I fuck her to some Drake

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

Uh, money on my mind, I ain't thinking no bitch
I'm talking 'bout that scratch my motherfuckin' throat itch
Uh, stop stuntin', if you buy your bitch somethin'
Stayed on the same team like Tim
get real, if you scared go to catholic school
And if we want it, straight jack it like a padded
Shoot your ass 100 and stand over you
Lil Tunechi so fly, I got
Burn bitch, AK in my grip
Leap if you feeling like Kermit,
Preach, and I'll smoke your ass like Cheech
I be like bleach, double barrel, Siamese
I like my swisher obese, fuck that bitch police
Fuck these haters with no grease, you get chin checked,
Money talks bitch and mine talks Robin Leach
That lean got me slow as Lisa Turtle, ask
Uh, bank card heavy, my like a barbell
My got a fat cat, I call that shit Garfield
We'll bring the O.K. Corral to doorbell
We pull triggers, not coattails, I 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 gon' talk, they ain't talking shit
Niggas gon' bark, I go Vick
Fuck them fuck-niggas on that
Suck a dick for some TRUKFIT

And then I let that Kush burn, let that burn
I let that Kush burn
Smoking gasoline,
The booth on fire, I'm in here higher
Holla at a nigga if you want that Oscar