Luyện nghe bài hát Let Me Out

i dont wanna yay
get my door in by the kkk
said the police
lookin for the piece inside my caprice

from the tracks of the
i try to
ya caught my
on a CD or rap
i make it then it
to the mom and papa
for a proper cash
from the mom and store

dont no more rappers on consignment
find alignment
come back climate
people even know who you is
you need a name in the biz

album, for one, has no promotion
your elbows and kneecaps no lotion
your ashy, music is trashy
outkast, inside class me
out the is where they catch me
(WHERE?)
Straight the street
(WHERE YOU GOIN?)
now im on my way to meet
(SAY WHAT?)
Tryn to make a mil without a record
selling tapes off the of my Coupe de ville (Bucka!)

Hustlin on the is hard
in a with the white security guard
talkin bout 'no solicitin, no
I try to talk to him but nope he not
Punk ass, ass, cant slam dunk ass
skunk ass, monk ass, suckatash!
Now i'm a black guard workin for a Korean
tellin me i cant be in the that i be in
you can spend your money
you cant make no here
you better get outta here ya here
did i myself clear?
i go and drink a
til im pissy in my
big as missy (EEEEEE!)

I'm so plus overstressed
wanna rap so im obsessed
sometimes i wanna cock my
make them punks play my on the beat (BUCKA!!!!)

let me out, let me out
let me the whole world what im all about
let me out, let me out
let me rap til the people scream n shout
let me out, let me out
let me show the world the best of me
let me out, let me out
let me take of my destiny

depressed,
smokin,
black,
monster,
sellin,
money,
for a murder, black
like roberta
get dressed up, get my pressed up
the music industry is messed up, baby!
i a pity party as i sip bacardi
sell on! rap tapes, i dont nobody
ima beethoven givin, colt 45
its the 2000 and my gerri curl still drippin
it might sound in my rhyme
but im from the west
i cant with the hands of time
what i am is i am
if you dont like what i am i dont a damn
black my title, john king is my idol
im havin thoughts suicidal, young rival
i dont care about fashion, cadillac mashin
bags to put my grass in, to put my cash in
i dont wear FUBU like you do FUBU is booboo
i pull my gat and you shit boo boo sit
you talk too shit, thats why you got hit
walkin home your gums split
while i sit, sell yay, (BUCKA!)
N.W.A. (BUCK-BUCKA-BUCKA!)
cruisin down the street in my 6
punk niggas get GA-FFO,
I kill every cop I meet
I burn down this house that swapped me
Im smack but you aint hearin
get your gat, i start racketeerin, plus clearin
all the and all the europeans
the ones makin off of black human beings
OH! it up, give it up
its time for the folks to live it up
a-ya-hey! burn it down, burn it
run the white cops outta town,
so tell griffith that his punk ass b
from the black vigilante
it be,
a dictatorship, ran by the klu klux
the wrath of the afroman

let me out, let me out
let me show these what im all about
let me out, let me out
the sheriff in the ass til he scream and shout
let me out, let me out
let me show the whole world the of me
let me out, let me out
let me take control of my

I CAN DO IT, I CAN IT
if you dont it to me baby, ima take it
fuck the industry, fuck the music biz
i make my own rap tape and tell it it is
revolution,
- thats the solution
i the rap tape, i made the CD
the corporate world, GIVE THE MONEY TO ME!
BITCH!

Nobody the Afroman

fuck the police and the ku klan

ima hungry hustla, east young busta