Luyện nghe bài hát Burn (dedication 4)

Uh, hammer on the dresser, on the stove
I'm on the counter blowing purp out my nose
Red naked, in the bed flexin'
I say: "bitch I ain't impressed, you must of got the impression"
Uh, I with the BS, I'm flyer than PF
Man, we living in hell like a deep
Real niggas with real money, real with fake asses
If she wanna fuck, I get on my skateboard and I skate pass her
Money on the table, guns on the
Bitch I'm on that syrup, tell hoe: "let go my ego"
And my girlfriend is a choppa, I finger that hoe
I am Tunechi, you had me at "hello"
Uh, drop top Maybach, like Ajax
Man I don't fuck with none of you niggas like
We got that work so and get if we don't know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in your apple, what that is? Jacks
Uh, nigga I'll murder you then dance at your funeral
I'll have a nigga drinking his own blood, communion
Wake up like Bone Thugs, I'll your bluff, pick the phone up
Her fake but they look real, cubic zirconia's
Run up in house, spare the kids and kill the grown ups
Your bitch call me when she hot, Krispy doughnuts
Shout out to my new hoes, out to my old hoes
I'll still that ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what gon' say?
I'm still rappers on my fucking lunch break
Bad yellow bitch with a tongue like a
I let her suck my and then I fuck her to some Drake

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

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

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