Luyện nghe bài hát FuckWitMeYouKnowIGotIt

(Intro)
I mean it's
fuck wit us

[Verse 1 : Lil
I got on yo head
I don't do my work
I cut off my hands, I don't even the work
I pray niggas don't fuck with me
And I don't like to curse in
And my bitch' pussy taste like Mrs. Butterworth's
I mean that, believe
Don't be short with work nigga
We out where yo ho work nigga
We follow your moms from nigga
You gonna have to yo pride like a thirst quencher
Get'em
I don't really around with certain niggas
Fuck all niggas, except my niggas
These hustling backwards
Check ya rear-view and your side mirrors
OG keep my mind clearer
That choppa get yo mind
I got 2 choppas chopsticks
Eat yo block up like shrimp fried
Been so long since I seen my eyes
You know I smoke dry ice
Better in yo lane or get sideswiped
going down, let me straighten up and fly right
Still turn a ho into a housewife
Man it's like some things will never
You got a shot in a gun range
These chumps ain't got chump change
Uh yea, and don't with me, you know I'm Gotti
Check yourself before I it
Yea, I'm shinin on niggas, no horizon
Yea, and it's down if I'm her pilot
Uh, my new car is so
My new is so provided
talks, yours like no comment
Black car, racial profiling, rest in peace to Christopher
Desert like the Mojave
I get my work from Rico uh
It's a Rollie if I got on my hand
You ever see me broke? on my cast
Boy my weed so good I cry when gone
Had a in jail, that's a cellphone
Yea, I'm to buy a machinegun
We drink it all, leave clean cups, make mountains like speed bumps
I'm on some train tracks
Hopin' bitch speed up
I'm strong-arming these niggas, roll my up, yea
I got bad on standby, all my hoes got cat eyes
Celebrate when a rat die, make a fall back like he getting baptized
Put me in a room, full of flat lines
I'm Tunechi Lee
My name ringing, my ringin, hello may I take yo order?
I say...
Testarossa testimony
Got so much shit built up you could it on me
Fuck all y'all in Swahili nigga
Ain't nothing free round here but Willy,
Ak-47, it Mr. Biggs
All my niggas blood, yo syringe
Chop his off, put it in the fridge
Try not to mistake that shit for

2 : T.I.]
Hey let me you nigga to America most
Every nigga round me carry a tote
bitches like a nigga Tune on the low
They just be like 10 and be doing the
Okay, Tune in the jet over the boat
I'm on the way from the Panama, I got a few on the
What you niggas make a year; I could do with the
You keep on playin me, bet I'll put a few in you ho
The of a fuck nigga, we soon to see
These sweet as perfume to me
I mean like cartoon to me
nobody fuckin with Tune and me
Hustle Gang, bang green, in God we
Young Money Cash Money, they down us
I got a who want yo bitch, you finna give the ho up
And buck shawty listen, you don't really know us
We a bust a head, leave him layin for dead
I get with a banger, I'ma lay in the feds
In gen pop nigga day in the feds
I was chillin on the yard, really hard
And these pussy catchin' feelings over broads
King nigga but I'm really like a god
A town nigga, bank I'm about it
know "to fuck with me cuz I got it"