Luyện nghe bài hát Let Me Out

i dont sell yay
get my kicked in by the kkk
shoulda the police
lookin for the quarter piece inside my

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

dont no more rappers on consignment
find another
come back climate
people don't 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 they me
out the door is they catch me
(WHERE?)
into 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 back of my Coupe de (Bucka!)

Hustlin on the street is
in a fight with the security guard
talkin 'no solicitin, no publicitin'
I try to to him but nope he not listenin
Punk ass, flunk ass, cant dunk ass
skunk ass, ass, sufferin suckatash!
Now i'm seein a black guard for a Korean
tellin me i cant be in the that i be in
you can spend money here
you make no money here
you get outta here ya here here
did i make myself
i go and a beer
til im in my belly
big as elliot (EEEEEE!)

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

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

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

let me out, let me out
let me these motherfuckers 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 give it to me baby, ima take it
the music industry, fuck the music biz
i make my own rap tape and tell it it is
revolution,
revolution - thats the
i the rap tape, i made the CD
fuck the corporate world, GIVE THE TO ME!
BITCH!

Nobody understand the

fuck the and the ku klux klan

ima hungry hustla, east side busta