Luyện nghe bài hát Here We Are/Go Killem

[Daz](Kurupt)
Psss.. yeah..
It's about y'all bitch ass niggaz (fuck this.. shit)
Y'knahmsayin? Tired of ya bitch ass 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 late
Swingle's the when them thangs come in screechin in the dark
I want my snija when you the sparks
Dustin off bread, for startin Rucker's
Can't touch us, me and my homey reply wit
Me and my dogg's blast attention leavin less in the action
Bitch ass sorry ass bastards, heartless, coward
I was to devauer, cut your sorry's
For all my niggaz behind bars
Scared for life, from the blade of a
The kid strikes at for takin ya life
Seven tec's, I earn you "Chin Check" the rest
or die when your bitch ass
I take precaution, stalkin these streets, and ballin
your hand on yo' heat, cause we playin for keeps
Real niggaz do thangs in this gang-bang life we lead
You can't hang, nigga die and
Murder won't stop 'til buster and sucker drop
Fuck the cops, stop me corruptin the block
pass the glocks in the weed spot
Stop playa hatin, got and clock yo' own knock
perfect the shine, the fifty-eight camera's die
Blind ya we comin from behind

[Chorus: male + female singer]
we are (here we are)
and there are (there they are)
Gonna get gone, aiyya, aiyya (get gone, get gone) {*gun
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, 'em down, for every radio, seveditary
Layin 'em down up in the montuary
is more, another life is gone
Brandish your torn; forty weeks later - a is born
Inbine neighborhood to let me if you could
Be a G or you claim to be let me know if you
Back shootin up, hoes Cadillac's {*gun
Don't ever come back, you show me it's at
Off the rack comes the gay, 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 roll with Crips (?) for the
the pistol 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 and tell
leave they bodies wit the maggots and (UGH UGH!)
Shit, for T-Duck.. (ahh!), always G'd up
On a for tuition, I need bucks
Big dollars.. (why?), I jack niggaz I gotta
My got enemys now because of they father (shhh)

- 2X

Smoked and and fucked up by a locked up
On niggaz who try to get buck
In the fashion, the blastin, it's hard to
Not cashin no who be actin like bastards
What do I do, but my niggaz and my crew to come
do what they do, and put work on you
See me automatic, static, static's 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 nigga now his ass is goast
I smoke a blunt and stick my in some cunt (ahh AHH!)
To me and my homeboy's, ya just punks, haha
Who really want it? come get it
Slowly but surely, homey you ain't never it
How times I gotta say somethin, I'm fuckin wit mine
Livin the life of crime where do or die
Y'all don't really want none of this
We the shit, but ya ya crew, bitch!

- 3X w/ variations

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