Luyện nghe bài hát Murda Mami

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

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

like damn, bitch, niggaz lovin me now
Oh-nine Bonnie & Clyde doin it now -
Murder murder, these bitches ain't heard of
Gettin money, hurt up, impatient to leak them burners

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

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