Luyện nghe bài hát FuckWitMeYouKnowIGotIt

(Intro)
I mean simple
Can't wit us

[Verse 1 : Lil
I got money on yo
I do my dirty work
I cut off my hands, I don't touch the work
I pray these niggas don't with me
And I don't like to curse in
And my bitch' pussy taste just Mrs. Butterworth's
I mean that, that
Don't be short that work nigga
We find out yo ho work nigga
We your moms from church nigga
You gonna have to swallow yo pride like a quencher
Tune
I don't fuck around with certain niggas
all yall niggas, except my niggas
These niggas hustling
ya rear-view mirror and your side mirrors
OG kush keep my clearer
That get yo mind right
I got 2 choppas chopsticks
Eat yo block up like shrimp rice
Been so since I seen my eyes white
You I smoke like dry ice
Better in yo lane or get sideswiped
It's down, let me straighten up and fly right
Still can't turn a ho into a
Man it's like some things never change
You ain't got a in a gun range
chumps ain't even got chump change
Uh yea, and don't with me, you know I'm Gotti
Check before I sign it
Yea, I'm on these niggas, no horizon
Yea, and it's going down if I'm her
Uh, my new car is so
My new is so provided
Money talks, yours like no
Black car, racial profiling, rest in peace to Wallace
Desert like the Mojave
I get my work from Suave uh
It's a Rollie if I got time on my
You see me broke? Write on my cast
Boy my weed so I cry when it's gone
Had a phone in jail, a cellphone
Yea, I'm bout to buy a
We drink it all, leave cups, make mountains look like speed bumps
I'm sittin on train tracks
Hopin' that speed up
I'm strong-arming niggas, roll my sleeves up, yea
I got bad bitches on standby, all my got cat eyes
Celebrate when a rat die, make a nigga back like he getting baptized
Put me in a hospital room, full of lines
I'm Tunechi Lee
My name ringing, my name ringin, may I take yo order?
I say...
Testarossa over
Got so much shit built up you could it on me
all y'all niggas in Swahili nigga
Ain't nothing free round here but Willy,
Ak-47, call it Mr.
All my blood, fuck yo syringe
Chop his off, put it in the fridge
Try not to mistake that for dinner

2 : T.I.]
Hey let me introduce you nigga to America
Every round with me carry a tote
Sadity bitches a nigga Tune on the low
They just be like 10 and be doing the
Okay, Tune in the jet flyin over the
I'm on the way the Panama, I got a few on the boat
What you niggas make a year; I could do the blow
You keep on playin with me, bet put a few in you ho
The fate of a nigga, we soon to see
These sweet as perfume to me
I mean really like to me
Ain't fuckin with Tune and me
Hustle Gang, green, in God we trust
Young Money Cash Money, down with us
I got a bitch who yo bitch, you finna give the ho up
And don't buck shawty listen, you don't really 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 every day in the feds
I was chillin on the yard, going hard
And these pussy niggas catchin' over broads
King pussy nigga but I'm really a god
A town nigga, head I'm about it
Everybody know "to with me cuz I got it"