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? Tired of ya bitch ass niggaz
(Yeah nigga, Daz and Kurupt) killin, everyday 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
Swingle's the cheater when them thangs come in 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 attention 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 at thirteen for takin ya life
tec's, I earn repect; you "Chin Check" the rest
or die when your bitch ass
I take precaution, stalkin these streets, flossin and
Keep hand on yo' heat, cause we playin for keeps
Real niggaz do real thangs in this life we lead
You can't hang, nigga die and
Murder stop 'til every buster and sucker drop
Fuck the cops, stop me corruptin the block
Rocks pass the glocks in the spot
Stop hatin, whodie got and clock yo' own knock
Tryna perfect the shine, the 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*}
get gone, aiyya, aiyya (get gone, get gone) {*gun shot*}

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

- 2X

Smoked and loaded and up by a locked up
On some who try to get buck
In the fashion, the blastin, hard to imagine
Not cashin no 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
as his ass got smoked
and fucked the nigga now his ass is goast
I smoke a blunt and my dick in some cunt (ahh AHH!)
To me and my homeboy's, ya just punks, haha
Who want it? Nigga come get it
but surely, homey you ain't never forget it
How many times I say somethin, I'm fuckin 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!

- 3X w/ variations

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