Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the Louie-Louies with the cherry bottoms
Bad on my arm with a Halle Berry body
You know 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 my paper in my shoe box
Now I got two large accounts with money stacks and amounts
What the fuck you niggas talkin' bout, cause we tryin' talk it out
Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it a thing, let's talk it out
Let chopper start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you know I'm sippin', purple got me trippin'
Scoop chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard
I'm on South Beach chillin' and I'm tryin' to every hottie
Get her to the crib and her fuck everybody
You know the team, Young Money over everybody
In the rap game, so it's fuck

Wayne:]
Married to the mob, you alive
My pussy feel like heaven to a God
And I in this bitch with my niggas
Kidnap the baby and the fuckin' babysitter,
I be doin' me, don't give a bout what you doin'
Blood bitch, big B's, Boston Bruins
I could do shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
fuck your body up, they ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
Murk your pussy ass and everyone you in 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 don't know truce is
bullet proof vest so useless
Flag red like
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 ain't did
Shit, words you never hear, let him live
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I break these bitches down, I these hoes off
Lil Tunechi is my name, I got Gudda on the
Public apology, sorry for the