Luyện nghe bài hát Burn (dedication 4)

Uh, on the dresser, work 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 must of got the impression"
Uh, I ain't the BS, I'm flyer than PF
Man, we living in hell like a breath
Real niggas with real money, real bitches fake asses
If she don't fuck, I get on my skateboard and I skate pass her
Money on the table, on the table
I'm on that syrup, tell that 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, clean like
Man I don't fuck with none of you niggas like
We got work so come and get if we don't know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in your apple, that is? Apple Jacks
Uh, pussy nigga murder you then dance at your funeral
Blood I'll a nigga drinking his own blood, communion
Wake up Bone Thugs, I'll call your bluff, pick the phone up
Her titties fake but they real, cubic zirconia's
Run up in your house, spare the kids and the grown ups
Your call me when she hot, Krispy Kreme doughnuts
out to my new hoes, shout out to my old hoes
I'll wear that ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, they gon' say?
I'm still rappers on my fucking lunch break
Bad yellow bitch with a tongue a snake
I let her suck my dick and then I fuck her to Drake

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

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

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