Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

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

[Lil
Married to the mob, you alive
My girl pussy feel like to a God
And I came in this bitch my niggas
Kidnap the baby and the fuckin' babysitter,
I be doin' me, don't give a fuck bout what you
gang bitch, big B's, Boston Bruins
I could do this shit, closed, nothin' to it
Bullets fuck your body up, they ain't even tryna 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 watched too movies
smoked too many doobies
Murk you out, deuces
We know what truce is
That bullet proof so useless
Flag red like
ya head with them uzis
I swear, your honor, I a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig
I up the sig, point it at ya wig
Pull over on the highway, you off the bridge
We don't give a fuck, and we ain't did
Shit, words you never hear, let him live
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I break these down, I break these hoes off
Lil is my name, I got Gudda on the tape
apology, sorry for the wait