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 come wit some tec's
to get back or get capped, the slap, a late flap
Swingle's the when them thangs come in screechin in the dark
I my snija when you singin the sparks
off bread, motherfuckers for startin Rucker's
Can't us, me and my homey reply wit fuckers
Me and my blast attention leavin y'all less in the action
Bitch ass ass bastards, heartless, senseless coward
I was to devauer, cut your sorry's
For all my real niggaz bars
Scared for life, from the of a knife
The kid strikes at thirteen for takin ya
Seven tec's, I earn you "Chin Check" the rest
or die when your ass death
I take precaution, stalkin these streets, and ballin
Keep your hand on yo' heat, cause we for keeps
niggaz do real thangs in this gang-bang life we lead
You hang, nigga die and bleed
Murder won't stop 'til every buster and sucker
Fuck the cops, me from corruptin the block
Rocks pass the glocks in the spot
playa hatin, whodie got and clock yo' own knock
Tryna the shine, the fifty-eight camera's die
ya when we comin from behind

[Chorus: male singer + female
we are (here we are)
and there 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 no mercy and no sorrow
Fuedin, layin 'em down, for radio, seveditary
Layin 'em down dead up in the
Death is more, life is gone
Brandish your torn; forty later - a soldier is born
Inbine your neighborhood to let me if you
Be a G or you to be let me know if you could
Back shootin up, hoes Cadillac's shot*}
Don't come back, you show me where it's at
Off the rack comes the gay, buck
and A.K. retaliates in a way!
We're in the land where it's from man
Clan for clan, simple mistake, you end up dead (yeah.. say what?)
I roll with Crips (?) for the
Grip the pistol to ya brain, never no shit
Whether, Heaven or Hell, I gotsta
die makin it happen and to die in a cell
Rather load up my hollow-point
but nigga, you snitch and
they 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 cause I gotta
My kids got enemys now because of they (shhh)

- 2X

Smoked and loaded and 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 call my niggaz and my crew to
do they do, and put they 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 bitch ass
Adios as his ass got
and fucked the wrong 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 gotta say somethin, I'm wit mine
Livin the life of crime it's do or die
niggaz don't really want none of this
We the shit, but ya ya crew, bitch!

[Chorus] - 3X w/

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