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 know what I do, I, g-get to the moolah
Wrist frigid and my watch is a Franck Muller
I'm reppin' moolah, Gudda [x2], I
Remember when I used to stuff my in my shoe box
Now I got two accounts 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, talk it out
Let chopper start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you what I'm sippin', purple got me trippin'
your chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard
I'm on South chillin' and I'm tryin' to fuck every hottie
Get her to the and make her fuck everybody
You know the team, it's Young Money over
In the rap game, so it's everybody

[Lil
Married to the mob, you alive
My girl pussy like heaven to a God
And I came in this bitch with my
Kidnap the and the fuckin' babysitter, yeah
I be doin' me, don't give a fuck bout what you
Blood gang bitch, big B's, Boston
I could do this shit, closed, nothin' 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 with a stick
Make you two dicks
Fuckin' right, we
We watched too many movies
Then smoked too many
Murk you out, deuces
We don't know what is
That bullet proof vest so
red like bruises
Shoot ya head with them
I swear, honor, I ain't a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig
I up the sig, point it at ya wig
over on the highway, throw you off the bridge
We don't a fuck, and we ain't never did
Shit, three words you hear, let him live
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I break these down, I break these hoes off
Lil Tunechi is my name, I got on the tape
apology, sorry for the wait