Luyện nghe bài hát Throwed Off Freestyle

[Gudda
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the club with the cherry bottoms
Bad on my arm with 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' moolah, Gudda x 2, 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 f-ck you niggas talkin' bout, cause we ain't tryin' it out
hangin' out my jeans, it ain't a thing, lets spark 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'
Scoop your chicken up and let her lick me a lizard
I'm on South chillin' and I'm tryin' to f-ck every hottie
Get her to the crib and make her everybody
You know the team, it's Young over everybody
In the rap game, so it's f-ck
Wayne]
Married to the mob, bury you
My girl feel like heaven to a God
And I came in this bitch my niggas
Kidnap the baby and the f-ckin' babysitter,
I be doin' me, don't give a f-ck bout what you
gang bitch, big V's, Boston Bruins
I could do this shit, eyes closed, to it
Bullets f-ck your body up, they ain't even view it
I go tough, I go
Murk your ass and everyone you in cahoose with
F-ck you a pool stick
Make you swallow tooth
F-ckin' right, we
We done too many movies
Then too many doobies
you out, then deuces
We don't what truce is
bullet proof vest so useless
Flag red bruises
ya head with them 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 over on the highway, throw you off the
We don't give a f-ck, and we never did
Shit, three words you never hear, let him
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 Gudda on the
apology, sorry for the wait