Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the Louie-Louies with the cherry bottoms
Bad bitch on my arm with a Halle Berry
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
Remember when I used to stuff my paper in my box
Now I got two large with money stacks and large amounts
What the fuck you niggas talkin' bout, cause we ain't tryin' it out
Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it a thing, let's talk it out
Let that start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you know I'm sippin', purple got me trippin'
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 her fuck everybody
You know the team, it's Young Money over
In the rap game, so it's fuck

[Lil
Married to the mob, you alive
My girl feel like heaven to a God
And I came in bitch with my niggas
Kidnap the and the fuckin' babysitter, yeah
I be doin' me, don't give a fuck what you doin'
Blood bitch, big B's, Boston Bruins
I could do this shit, eyes closed, to it
Bullets fuck your body up, ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
Murk your ass and everyone you in cahoots with
Fuck you with a pool
Make you two dicks
right, we ruthless
We watched too many movies
Then too many doobies
you out, then deuces
We don't know truce is
That bullet proof so useless
Flag red bruises
Shoot ya head with 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, three you never 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 on the tape
Public apology, sorry for the