Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the club with the cherry bottoms
Bad bitch on my arm a Halle Berry body
You know I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah
Wrist wear frigid and my watch is a Muller
I'm reppin' young moolah, [x2], I
Remember when I used to stuff my in my shoe box
Now I got two large accounts with money stacks and amounts
What the fuck you niggas talkin' bout, cause we tryin' talk it out
Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it ain't a thing, let's it out
Let chopper start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you what I'm sippin', purple got me trippin'
Scoop your chicken up and let her lick me like a
I'm on South Beach chillin' and I'm tryin' to fuck every
Get her to the crib and make her everybody
You know the team, it's Money over everybody
In the rap game, so it's fuck

[Lil
to the mob, bury you alive
My pussy feel like heaven to a God
And I came in this bitch my niggas
the baby and the fuckin' babysitter, yeah
I be doin' me, give a fuck bout what you doin'
gang bitch, big B's, Boston Bruins
I could do this shit, closed, nothin' to it
Bullets fuck your up, they ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
Murk your pussy ass and everyone you in with
Fuck you with a stick
Make you swallow two
Fuckin' right, we
We done too many movies
Then smoked too many
Murk you out, then
We don't know truce is
That bullet vest so useless
red like bruises
Shoot ya with them uzis
I swear, honor, I ain't a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig
I load up the sig, it at ya wig
Pull on the highway, throw you off the bridge
We don't give a fuck, and we never did
Shit, three words you never hear, let him
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I break bitches down, I break these hoes off
Lil Tunechi is my name, I got Gudda on the
Public apology, for the wait