Luyện nghe bài hát Let Me Out

i dont sell yay
get my kicked 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 it then take it
to the mom and store
for a cash flo'
the mom and papa store

dont want no more rappers on
find another
back another climate
people don't even who you is
you need a in the music biz

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

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

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

let me out, let me out
let me show the whole world 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 whole 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 flack
get up, get my tapes pressed up
'cause the industry is messed up, baby!
i throw a pity party as i sip
sell on! rap tapes, i dont need
ima givin, colt 45 sippin
its the year 2000 and my gerri curl still
it might strange in my rhyme
but im from the west
i cant change with the of time
what i am is i am
if you dont like what i am i dont give a
black pecker's my title, john king is my
im havin thoughts suicidal, young rival
i dont about 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 shit, thats why you got hit
walkin home with your split
i sit, sell yay, eryday (BUCKA!)
N.W.A. (BUCK-BUCKA-BUCKA!)
cruisin down the street in my 6
niggas get GA-FFO, bitch
I kill every cop I meet
I wanna burn this house that swapped me
Im talkin smack but you hearin
get your gat, i gotta start racketeerin, clearin
all the koreans and all the
the ones makin off of black human beings
OH! give it up, it up
its time for the folks to live it up
a-ya-hey! it down, burn it down
run the cops outta town, motherfucker
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 these motherfuckers what im all about
let me out, let me out
fuck the sheriff in the ass til he and 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 control of my

I CAN DO IT, I CAN IT
if you dont give it to me baby, ima it
fuck the industry, fuck the music biz
i my own rap tape and tell it like it is
revolution,
- thats 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 klux

ima hungry hustla, east side young