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 a Halle Berry body
You know I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah
Wrist wear frigid and my is a Franck Muller
I'm young moolah, Gudda [x2], I
Remember when I used to stuff my paper in my box
Now I got two large accounts with stacks and large amounts
What the you niggas talkin' bout, cause we ain't tryin' talk it out
Pistol out my jeans, it ain't a thing, let's talk it out
Let that start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you know what I'm sippin', purple got me
Scoop your chicken up and let her lick me like a
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, it's Young Money everybody
In the rap game, so fuck everybody

Wayne:]
Married to the mob, you alive
My girl pussy 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 bout what you doin'
Blood gang bitch, big B's, Bruins
I could do this shit, eyes closed, to it
Bullets fuck your body up, they ain't even tryna it
I go tough, I go
Murk your ass and everyone you in cahoots with
Fuck you with a stick
you swallow two dicks
Fuckin' right, we
We done watched too movies
Then smoked too doobies
you out, then deuces
We know what truce is
bullet proof vest so useless
Flag red like
ya head with them uzis
I swear, honor, I ain't 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 a fuck, and we ain't never did
Shit, three you never hear, let him live
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I break bitches down, I break these hoes off
Lil Tunechi is my name, I got on the tape
Public apology, sorry for the