Luyện nghe bài hát Here We Are/Go Killem

[Daz](Kurupt)
Psss.. yeah..
It's about time bitch ass niggaz (fuck this.. shit)
Y'knahmsayin? Tired of ya bitch ass niggaz
(Yeah nigga, Daz and Kurupt) 1-8-7 killin, all day
I'm out!

Nigga cause you better strapped wit some tec's
to get back or get capped, the back slap, a late
Swingle's the cheater them thangs come in screechin in the dark
I want my snija you singin the sparks
off bread, motherfuckers for startin Rucker's
Can't touch us, me and my reply wit fuckers
Me and my dogg's blast leavin y'all less in the action
Bitch ass sorry ass bastards, heartless, senseless
I was born to devauer, cut sorry's
For all my real behind bars
Scared for life, from the blade of a
The kid strikes at thirteen for takin ya
Seven tec's, I earn repect; you "Chin Check" the
or die when bitch ass death
I take precaution, these streets, flossin and ballin
Keep your hand on yo' heat, we playin for keeps
Real niggaz do real thangs in gang-bang life we lead
You hang, nigga die and bleed
Murder won't stop every buster and sucker drop
Fuck the cops, stop me corruptin the block
Rocks pass the glocks in the spot
Stop playa hatin, got and clock yo' own knock
Tryna perfect the shine, the camera's die
Blind ya when we from behind

male singer + female singer]
we are (here we are)
and they are (there they are)
Gonna get gone, aiyya, aiyya (get gone, get gone) shot*}
Gonna get gone, aiyya, aiyya (get gone, get gone) {*gun

(?)'s a herb, call the choreographer the
Camaro's, I show no and no sorrow
Fuedin, layin 'em down, for radio, seveditary
Layin 'em down dead up in the
is more, another life is gone
Brandish torn; forty weeks later - a soldier is born
Inbine your to let me if you could
Be a G or you to be let me know if you could
Back shootin up, Cadillac's {*gun shot*}
Don't ever come back, you show me it's at
Off the rack the gay, buck sprays
and A.K. retaliates in a way!
We're in the land where banned from man
for clan, where simple mistake, you end up dead (yeah.. say what?)
I with Crips (?) for the chips
Grip the pistol to ya brain, never no shit
Whether, or Hell, I gotsta prevail
die makin it happen and to die in a cell
Rather load up my shells
but nigga, you and tell
leave they wit the maggots and snails (UGH UGH!)
Shit, duck for T-Duck.. (ahh!), G'd up
On a for tuition, I need bucks
Big dollars.. (why?), I jack niggaz I gotta
My kids got enemys now of they father (shhh)

- 2X

Smoked and loaded and fucked up by a up
On some who try to get buck
In the fashion, the blastin, it's hard to
Not no niggaz who be actin like bastards
do I do, but call my niggaz and my crew to come
do what they do, and put work on you
See me automatic, cause static, inatic of a gun-play
everyday, all day
You want trouble? Ha-ha, bring the fan
and Daz you blast, so donate ass
Adios as his ass got
and fucked the wrong now his ass is goast
I smoke a blunt and stick my dick in cunt (ahh AHH!)
To me and my homeboy's, ya some punks, haha
Who really it? Nigga come get it
Slowly but surely, you ain't never forget it
How many I gotta say somethin, I'm fuckin wit mine
Livin the life of crime where do or die
Y'all niggaz don't really none of this
We the shit, but ya ya crew, bitch!

[Chorus] - 3X w/

[Daz] {*w/ singer singing in background*}
Kill 'em, 'em
Yeah, pull up on nigga right here
out (?) {*gun shot*}
PLO! 'EM!...