Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off Freestyle

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the club Louie-Louies the cherry bottoms
Bad bitch on my arm a Halle Berry body
You what I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah
Wrist wear frigid and my is a Franck Muller
I'm reppin' moolah, Gudda x 2, I
Remember when I used to my paper in my shoe box
Now I got two large accounts money stacks and large amounts
the f-ck you niggas talkin' bout, cause we ain't tryin' talk it out
Pistol out my jeans, it ain't a thing, lets spark 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 your up and let her lick me like a lizard
I'm on South chillin' and I'm tryin' to f-ck every hottie
Get her to the crib and make her f-ck
You know the team, it's Young Money everybody
In the rap game, so it's everybody
Wayne]
Married to the mob, bury you
My girl p-ssy feel heaven to a God
And I came in this bitch with my
Kidnap the baby and the f-ckin' babysitter,
I be doin' me, don't give a f-ck bout you doin'
Blood gang bitch, big V's, Boston
I do this shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
Bullets f-ck your body up, they ain't even view it
I go tough, I go
Murk p-ssy ass and everyone you in cahoose with
F-ck you with a stick
Make you swallow picks
right, we ruthless
We done watched too many
smoked too many doobies
Murk you out, then
We don't know what is
That bullet vest so useless
Flag red like
Shoot ya head with uzis
I swear, honor, I ain't a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig
I up the cig, point it at ya wig
Pull on the highway, throw you off the bridge
We don't a f-ck, and we ain't never 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 break these off
Lil is my name, I got Gudda on the tape
Public apology, for the wait