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 a Halle Berry body
You know what I do, I, g-get to the moolah
Wrist wear and my watch 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
What the fuck you niggas bout, cause we ain't tryin' talk it out
Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it ain't a thing, talk it out
Let that chopper start to sing and let it and then I'm out
Yeah, you know what I'm sippin', purple got me
Scoop your up and let her lick me like a lizard
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 Young Money everybody
In the rap game, so it's fuck

[Lil
to the mob, bury you alive
My girl feel like heaven to a God
And I came in bitch with my niggas
the baby and the fuckin' babysitter, yeah
I be doin' me, don't give a fuck bout you doin'
Blood gang bitch, big B's, Bruins
I do this shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
Bullets fuck your body up, ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
your pussy ass and everyone you in cahoots with
Fuck you with a pool
Make you swallow two
Fuckin' right, we
We done watched too movies
Then smoked too many
Murk you out, deuces
We don't what truce is
That bullet proof 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 up the sig, point it at ya wig
over on the highway, throw you off the bridge
We don't give a fuck, and we never did
Shit, three words you hear, let him live
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I these bitches down, I break these hoes off
Lil Tunechi is my name, I got Gudda on the
apology, sorry for the wait