Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I up in the club 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' young moolah, [x2], I
Remember when I used to stuff my in my shoe box
Now I got two large accounts with money stacks and amounts
What the fuck you talkin' bout, cause 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 sing and let it ring and 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 hottie
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

Wayne:]
Married to the mob, bury you
My girl pussy feel 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 what you doin'
gang bitch, big B's, Boston Bruins
I do this shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
fuck your body up, they ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
Murk your ass and everyone you in cahoots with
you with a pool stick
Make you two dicks
right, we ruthless
We done watched too many
smoked too many doobies
Murk you out, deuces
We know what truce is
That bullet proof so useless
Flag red like
Shoot ya head with them
I swear, honor, I ain't 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 a fuck, and we ain't never did
Shit, three words you never hear, let him
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
apology, sorry for the wait