Lil' Wayne - Throwed Off（feat. Gudda Gudda） Album:Sorry 4 The Wait
Yeah, Ok, I walk up in the club Louie-Louies with the cherry bottoms Bad ***** on my arm with a Halle Berry body You know what I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah Wrist wear frigid and my watch is a Franck Muller I'm reppin' young moolah, Gudda x 2, I Remember when I used to stuff my paper in my shoe box Now I got two large accounts with money stacks and large amounts What the f-ck you *****s talkin' bout, cause we ain't tryin' talk it out Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it ain't a thing, lets spark it out Let that chopper start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out Yeah, you know what I'm sippin', purple got me trippin' Scoop your chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard I'm on South Beach chillin' and I'm tryin' to f-ck every hottie Get her to the crib and make her f-ck everybody You know the team, it's Young Money over everybody In the rap game, so it's f-ck everybody
Married to the mob, bury you alive My girl p-ssy feel like heaven to a God And I came in this ***** with my *****s Kidnap the baby and the f-ckin' babysitter, yeah I be doin' me, don't give a f-ck bout what you doin' Blood gang *****, big V's, Boston Bruins I could do this ****, eyes closed, nothin' to it Bullets f-ck your body up, they ain't even tryna view it I go tough, I go stupid Murk your p-ssy ass and everyone you in cahoose with F-ck you with a pool stick Make you swallow tooth picks F-ckin' right, we ruthless We done watched too many movies Then smoked too many doobies Murk you out, then deuces We don't know what truce is That bullet proof vest so useless Flag red like bruises Shoot ya head with them uzis I swear, your honor, I ain't a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig I load up the cig, point it at ya wig Pull over on the highway, throw you off the bridge We don't give a f-ck, and we ain't never did ****, three words you never hear, let him live I'm in my own zone, it got me throwed off I break these *****es down, I break these hoes off Lil Tunechi is my name, I got Gudda on the tape Public apology, sorry for the wait
[00:00.85]Lil' Wayne - Throwed Off（feat. Gudda Gudda） [00:04.96]Album:Sorry 4 The Wait [00:07.03] [00:25.98]Yeah, [00:26.48]Ok, I walk up in the club Louie-Louies with the cherry bottoms [00:30.48]Bad ***** on my arm with a Halle Berry body [00:33.80]You know what I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah [00:36.54]Wrist wear frigid and my watch is a Franck Muller [00:40.04]I'm reppin' young moolah, Gudda x 2, I [00:43.54]Remember when I used to stuff my paper in my shoe box [00:46.67]Now I got two large accounts with money stacks and large amounts [00:49.85]What the f-ck you *****s talkin' bout, cause we ain't tryin' talk it out [00:53.37]Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it ain't a thing, lets spark it out [00:56.62]Let that chopper start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out [00:59.99]Yeah, you know what I'm sippin', purple got me trippin' [01:03.23]Scoop your chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard [01:06.75]I'm on South Beach chillin' and I'm tryin' to f-ck every hottie [01:10.17]Get her to the crib and make her f-ck everybody [01:13.99]You know the team, it's Young Money over everybody [01:17.37]In the rap game, so it's f-ck everybody [01:21.06] [01:22.06]Married to the mob, bury you alive [01:25.05]My girl p-ssy feel like heaven to a God [01:28.37]And I came in this ***** with my *****s [01:30.68]Kidnap the baby and the f-ckin' babysitter, yeah [01:35.32]I be doin' me, don't give a f-ck bout what you doin' [01:38.43]Blood gang *****, big V's, Boston Bruins [01:41.62]I could do this ****, eyes closed, nothin' to it [01:45.00]Bullets f-ck your body up, they ain't even tryna view it [01:48.38]I go tough, I go stupid [01:51.26]Murk your p-ssy ass and everyone you in cahoose with [01:54.57]F-ck you with a pool stick [01:56.02]Make you swallow tooth picks [01:57.59]F-ckin' right, we ruthless [01:59.12]We done watched too many movies [02:00.83]Then smoked too many doobies [02:02.65]Murk you out, then deuces [02:04.27]We don't know what truce is [02:05.90]That bullet proof vest so useless [02:07.65]Flag red like bruises [02:09.22]Shoot ya head with them uzis [02:10.98]I swear, your honor, I ain't a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig [02:15.49]I load up the cig, point it at ya wig [02:18.42]Pull over on the highway, throw you off the bridge [02:21.84]We don't give a f-ck, and we ain't never did [02:25.10]****, three words you never hear, let him live [02:28.66]I'm in my own zone, it got me throwed off [02:31.69]I break these *****es down, I break these hoes off [02:35.05]Lil Tunechi is my name, I got Gudda on the tape [02:38.32]Public apology, sorry for the wait
