Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the club Louie-Louies the cherry bottoms
Bad bitch on my arm a Halle Berry body
You know what I do, I, g-get straight to the
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 money stacks and large
What the you niggas 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', got me trippin'
your chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard
I'm on South Beach chillin' and I'm to fuck every hottie
Get her to the crib and make her fuck
You know the team, it's Young Money everybody
In the rap game, so it's fuck

Wayne:]
Married to the mob, bury you
My girl feel like 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 a fuck bout what you doin'
Blood gang bitch, big B's, Boston
I do this shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
Bullets fuck your body up, they even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
Murk pussy ass and everyone you in cahoots with
Fuck you with a stick
you swallow two dicks
Fuckin' right, we
We done watched too many
Then smoked too many
Murk you out, deuces
We don't know what is
That bullet proof vest so
Flag red bruises
Shoot ya head 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 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 bitches down, I break these off
Lil is my name, I got Gudda on the tape
Public apology, for the wait