Luyện nghe bài hát Burn (dedication 4)

Uh, hammer on the dresser, work on the
I'm sitting on the counter purp out my nose
Red bone naked, in the bed
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 a deep breath
Real niggas with real money, real with fake asses
If she don't fuck, I get on my skateboard and I skate pass her
Money on the table, guns on the
Bitch I'm on that syrup, tell hoe: "let go my ego"
And my girlfriend is a choppa, I finger fuck hoe
I am Tunechi, you had me at "hello"
Uh, drop top Maybach, clean Ajax
Man I don't with none of you niggas like rednecks
We got work so come and get if we don't know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in your apple, 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 Thugs, I'll call your bluff, pick the phone up
Her titties fake but they real, cubic zirconia's
Run up in your house, spare the kids and kill the ups
Your bitch me when she hot, Krispy Kreme doughnuts
Shout out to my new hoes, out to my old hoes
I'll wear that ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what they gon'
I'm still eating rappers on my fucking lunch
Bad yellow bitch with a like a snake
I let her suck my dick and then I fuck her to Drake

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

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

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