Luyện nghe bài hát Let Me Out

i wanna sell yay
get my kicked in by the kkk
said the police
lookin for the quarter piece my caprice

the tracks of the ghetto
i try to
ya my music
on a CD or rap
i it then take it
to the mom and papa
for a proper flo'
from the mom and store

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

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

on the street is hard
in a fight with the white guard
bout 'no solicitin, no publicitin'
I try to talk to him but he not listenin
Punk ass, flunk ass, cant slam ass
ass, monk ass, sufferin suckatash!
Now i'm seein a black workin for a Korean
tellin me i cant be in the places i be in
you can your money here
you make no money here
you better get outta here ya here
did i make myself
i go and a beer
til im pissy in my
big as missy (EEEEEE!)

I'm so depressed plus
wanna rap so im obsessed
sometimes i wanna my heat
make punks play my song on the beat (BUCKA!!!!)

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

depressed,
smokin,
black,
monster,
sellin,
money,
down for a murder,
like flack
get dressed up, get my pressed up
'cause the industry is messed up, baby!
i throw a pity as i sip bacardi
on! rap tapes, i dont need nobody
ima givin, colt 45 sippin
its the year 2000 and my curl still drippin
it might sound in my rhyme
but im from the coast
i cant change the hands of time
i am is what i am
if you dont what i am i dont give a damn
black pecker's my title, john king is my
im havin thoughts thats suicidal, rival
i dont care fashion, just cadillac mashin
bags to put my grass in, to put my cash in
i dont wear FUBU like you do 'cause FUBU is
i pull my gat and you shit boo boo sit
you talk too much shit, why you got hit
walkin home with gums split
i sit, sell yay, eryday (BUCKA!)
N.W.A. (BUCK-BUCKA-BUCKA!)
cruisin down the in my 6 A---FRO
punk get GA-FFO, bitch
I wanna kill every cop I
I wanna burn down this that swapped me
Im talkin smack but you aint
get your gat, i gotta start racketeerin, plus
all the koreans and all the
the ones makin money off of black beings
OH! it up, give it up
its time for the black to live it up
a-ya-hey! burn it down, burn it
run the white cops outta town,
so tell andy griffith that his ass b
runs from the vigilante
it be,
a dictatorship, ran by the klu klux
feel the of the afroman

let me out, let me out
let me show these motherfuckers what im all
let me out, let me out
fuck the sheriff in the ass til he scream and
let me out, let me out
let me show the whole the best of me
let me out, let me out
let me take control of my

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

Nobody understand the

fuck the police and the ku klan

ima hungry hustla, east side busta