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
wear frigid and my watch is a Franck Muller
I'm young moolah, Gudda [x2], I
Remember when I used to stuff my in my shoe box
Now I got two large with money stacks and large amounts
What the fuck you niggas talkin' bout, we ain't tryin' talk it out
Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it ain't a thing, let's it out
Let that chopper start to and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you know what I'm sippin', purple got me
your chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard
I'm on South Beach and I'm tryin' to fuck every hottie
Get her to the crib and make her fuck
You know the team, it's Young Money everybody
In the rap game, so fuck everybody

[Lil
to the mob, bury you alive
My pussy feel like heaven to a God
And I in this bitch with my niggas
the baby and the fuckin' babysitter, yeah
I be me, don't give a fuck bout what you doin'
Blood gang bitch, big B's, Bruins
I do this shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
Bullets fuck body up, they ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
Murk your ass and everyone you in cahoots with
Fuck you with a stick
Make you two dicks
Fuckin' right, we
We done watched too many
Then too many doobies
Murk you out, deuces
We don't what truce is
That bullet vest so useless
red like bruises
Shoot ya with them uzis
I swear, your honor, I a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig
I load up the sig, it at ya wig
Pull over on the highway, 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, sorry for the