Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the club Louie-Louies with the cherry
Bad bitch on my arm a Halle Berry body
You what I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah
Wrist wear and my watch is a Franck Muller
I'm reppin' young moolah, [x2], I
Remember when I used to stuff my paper in my box
Now I got two accounts with money stacks and large amounts
What the fuck you niggas talkin' bout, cause we ain't talk it out
Pistol out my jeans, it ain't 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 your up and let her lick me like a lizard
I'm on Beach chillin' and I'm tryin' to fuck every hottie
Get her to the crib and her fuck everybody
You know the team, it's Money over everybody
In the rap game, so fuck everybody

[Lil
Married to the mob, bury you
My girl pussy feel heaven to a God
And I came in this with my niggas
Kidnap the baby and the babysitter, yeah
I be doin' me, don't give a fuck bout what you
Blood bitch, big B's, Boston Bruins
I could do shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
Bullets fuck your body up, they even tryna view it
I go tough, I go
your pussy ass and everyone you in cahoots with
Fuck you a pool stick
Make you swallow two
right, we ruthless
We watched too many movies
Then smoked too many
you out, then deuces
We don't know what is
That proof vest so useless
red like bruises
Shoot ya with them uzis
I swear, your honor, I 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 give a fuck, and we ain't never did
Shit, three words you never hear, let him
I'm in my own zone, it got me off
I these bitches down, I break these hoes off
Lil is my name, I got Gudda on the tape
Public apology, sorry for the