Luyện nghe bài hát Burn (dedication 4)

Uh, hammer on the dresser, on the stove
I'm sitting on the counter blowing purp out my
Red bone naked, in the bed
I say: "bitch I ain't impressed, you of got the wrong impression"
Uh, I ain't with the BS, I'm than PF
Man, we living in hell a deep breath
Real niggas with real money, real with fake asses
If she don't wanna fuck, I get on my skateboard and I skate her
Money on the table, on the table
I'm on that syrup, tell that hoe: "let go my ego"
And my is a choppa, I finger fuck that hoe
I am Tunechi, you had me at "hello"
Uh, top Maybach, clean like Ajax
Man I don't fuck with of you niggas like rednecks
We got that so come and get if we don't know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in apple, what that is? Apple Jacks
Uh, nigga I'll murder you then dance at your funeral
I'll have a nigga drinking his own blood, communion
Wake up Bone Thugs, I'll call your bluff, pick the phone up
Her titties fake but look real, cubic zirconia's
Run up in your house, spare the and kill the grown ups
Your bitch call me when she hot, Krispy doughnuts
Shout out to my new hoes, shout out to my old
I'll still wear ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what they gon'
I'm still eating on my fucking lunch break
Bad yellow with a tongue like a snake
I let her suck my dick and then I fuck her to some

And then I let that Kush burn, let that Kush
Yeah I let that Kush
gasoline, bitch
The booth on fire, I'm in getting higher
Young Money, bitch we at the top barbwire

Uh, money on my mind, I ain't 'bout no bitch
I'm talking 'bout that scratch like my motherfuckin' itch
Uh, stuntin', if you ballin' buy your bitch somethin'
Stayed on the same team Tim Duncan
Shit get real, if you scared go to catholic
And if we want it, jack it like a padded room
Shoot your ass 100 times and stand you
Lil Tunechi so fly, I got
bitch, AK in my firm grip
Leap if you feeling Kermit, sermons
Preach, reach and smoke your ass like Cheech
I be faded like bleach, barrel, Siamese
I like my swisher obese, fuck that bitch like
Fuck these haters with no grease, you get chin checked,
talks bitch and mine talks like Robin Leach
That got me slow as Lisa Turtle, ask Screech
Uh, bank card heavy, my wallet like a
My girl got a fat cat, I call that Garfield
We'll bring the O.K. Corral to doorbell
We triggers, not coattails, I make lump sums, oatmeal
I'm stuntin', new money
TRUKFIT money, Dew money, tell 'em
I get better fine wine, I'm fire like cayenne
In the words of my nigga BP, I'll hit a bitch a car bomb
BOOM!
bitch
Niggas gon' talk, they ain't 'bout shit
Niggas gon' bark, I go Mike
Fuck them fuck-niggas on that
Suck a nigga dick for TRUKFIT

And then I let that Kush burn, let that burn
Yeah I let that Kush
gasoline, bitch
The booth on fire, I'm in here getting
Holla at a if you want that Oscar Mayer