Luyện nghe bài hát Here We Are/Go Killem

[Daz](Kurupt)
Psss.. yeah..
It's about time y'all bitch ass (fuck this.. shit)
Y'knahmsayin? of ya bitch ass niggaz everywhere
(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 flap
the cheater when them thangs come in screechin in the dark
I want my snija when you the sparks
Dustin off bread, motherfuckers for Rucker's
Can't touch us, me and my homey reply wit
Me and my blast attention 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 niggaz behind bars
Scared for life, from the blade of a
The kid strikes at thirteen for takin ya
tec's, I earn repect; you "Chin Check" the rest
or die when your ass death
I precaution, stalkin these streets, flossin and ballin
Keep your on yo' heat, cause we playin for keeps
Real do real thangs in this gang-bang life we lead
You can't hang, nigga die and
Murder won't stop 'til every buster and sucker
Fuck the cops, stop me corruptin the block
Rocks the glocks in the weed spot
Stop playa hatin, whodie got and yo' own knock
perfect the shine, the fifty-eight camera's die
Blind ya when we from behind

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

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

- 2X

Smoked and and fucked up by a locked up
On some niggaz who try to get
In the fashion, the blastin, it's to imagine
Not cashin no niggaz who be actin bastards
What do I do, but call my niggaz and my to come
do what they do, and put work on you
See me automatic, cause static, static's inatic of a
everyday, all day
You want Ha-ha, let's bring the fan
and Daz you blast, so donate ass
as his ass got smoked
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 want it? Nigga come get it
Slowly but surely, homey you ain't forget it
How many times I gotta say somethin, I'm wit mine
Livin the of crime where it's do or die
Y'all niggaz really want none of this
We the shit, but ya ya crew, bitch!

[Chorus] - 3X w/

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