Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the club Louie-Louies with the bottoms
Bad bitch on my arm a Halle Berry body
You what I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah
Wrist wear frigid and my watch is a Muller
I'm reppin' moolah, Gudda [x2], I
when I used to stuff my paper in my shoe box
Now I got two large accounts with money stacks and large
What the you niggas talkin' 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 and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you know what I'm sippin', got me trippin'
Scoop your chicken up and let her me like a lizard
I'm on South chillin' and I'm tryin' to fuck every hottie
Get her to the crib and make her everybody
You know the team, it's Young Money everybody
In the rap game, so fuck everybody

Wayne:]
Married to the mob, you alive
My girl pussy feel heaven to a God
And I in this bitch with my niggas
Kidnap the baby and the fuckin' babysitter,
I be me, don't give a fuck bout what you doin'
Blood gang bitch, big B's, Boston
I could do this shit, eyes closed, to it
Bullets fuck your up, they ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
your pussy ass and everyone you in cahoots with
Fuck you a pool stick
you swallow two dicks
Fuckin' right, we
We watched too many movies
Then smoked too doobies
Murk you out, then
We know what truce is
That bullet proof so useless
red like bruises
Shoot ya head with them
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, throw you off the
We don't give a fuck, and we ain't did
Shit, three words you hear, let him live
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I break these bitches down, I these hoes off
Lil is my name, I got Gudda on the tape
Public apology, sorry for the