Luyện nghe bài hát Murda Mami

Yeah! Pussies don't get
(uh-huh)

Kinda short, dark-skinned, she a fly lil'
Be up in all them clubs spillin Dom P and
the boy stunt, Jonathan Kelsey clutch
Yves Saint fronts on her bags to the pumps
D's love her aura, fedora
Lame niggaz bore her, struttin like she
take a kilo and stuff it up in the coochie
Quicker than Ron, it between her coochie (ha ha)
Breeze through the hood, treat her like a O.G.
First bitch in the hood, the Bentley Coupe GT (yes)
is the team, Alexander McQueen
Bustin a bird and balance it with a beam
Five five, slanted eyes, bitch walk is
Mahushi Ron and Armani jeans
They're skinny, my bitch is like a rasta with it
Black car, red bottoms, mobster in it

It's damn, bitch, niggaz lovin me now
Bonnie & Clyde doin it now - whoa
Murder murder, these bitches ain't heard of
Gettin money, gettin hurt up, impatient to them burners

Aiyyo Ross, send them bitches to the
The blood claat flyest bad in New York
Y'all better bow the fuck down and pay homage
I'm ten million sold and that's knowledge
And all y'all rat bitches sound
me and Ross like the hood version of bombings
Bars me style like when you steppin in my
The 38 special in my sock
Now I got the llama and dark
Word to sly swifter fox who me?
Say hello in pumps, Nickelus with that bomb
So ladies your glass to this man song

Money ain't a thing, look at my pinkie rings
So many numbers in the bank, shit never be the same
Tall four Velours, withdrawals by Michael
And I a pretty penny I'm talkin hundred or more
My for 'leet, not for the cheap
And my in the street way longer than my receipt
Dealin the money, no (Monie) all (In The Middle)
I'm dealin with opponents, they riddled
Box niggaz up, on the
Louis sneakers, luggage, the colognes and soaks
Smellin money, my body tatted with hundreds
Oh-nine Bonnie Clyde, live with it like uh