Luyện nghe bài hát Murda Mami

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

Kinda short, dark-skinned, she a fly bitch
Be up in all them spillin Dom P and shit
Know the boy stunt, Kelsey clutch
Yves Laurent fronts on her bags to the pumps
D's her aura, Balenciago fedora
niggaz bore her, struttin like she Kimora
She'll take a kilo and stuff it up in the
Quicker than Ron, it between her coochie (ha ha)
Breeze through the hood, niggaz her like a O.G.
First bitch in the hood, with the Coupe GT (yes)
is the team, Alexander McQueen
Bustin down a bird and balance it with a
Five five, slanted eyes, walk is mean
Mahushi Ron bracelets and Armani
They're called skinny, my bitch is like a rasta it
Black car, red bottoms, only in it

It's like damn, bitch, lovin me now
Bonnie & Clyde doin it now - whoa
Murder murder, these bitches never heard of
Gettin money, hurt up, impatient to leak them burners

Ross, send them bitches to the boss
The blood claat bad bitch in New York
Y'all hoes bow the fuck down and pay homage
I'm ten million sold and that's SoundScan
And all y'all rat bitches garbage
While me and Ross like the hood of bombings
Bars give me like when you steppin in my
The 38 special in my Chanel
Now I got the and Ermet's dark
to sly swifter fox who above me?
Say hello in pumps, Nickelus with that bomb
So raise your glass to this man song

Money ain't a thing, just at my pinkie rings
So many numbers in the bank, shit could be the same
Tall four Velours, by Michael Kors
And I watch a pretty I'm talkin hundred or more
My critique for 'leet, not for the
And my in the street way longer than my receipt
with the money, no (Monie) all (In The Middle)
I'm dealin with opponents, they riddled
Box up, on the ropes
Louis sneakers, Louis luggage, the and soaks
Smellin money, my body tatted with hundreds
Bonnie Clyde, gotta live with it like uh