Luyện nghe bài hát Let Me Out

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

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

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

your album, for one, has no
your elbows and kneecaps no lotion
ashy, your music is trashy
outkast, they class me
out the is where they catch me
(WHERE?)
Straight the street
(WHERE YOU GOIN?)
now im on my way to swap
(SAY WHAT?)
Tryn to make a mil a record deal
selling tapes off the back of my de ville (Bucka!)

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

I'm so depressed overstressed
rap so hard im obsessed
sometimes i wanna my heat
make them play 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 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 roberta
get dressed up, get my pressed up
'cause the music is messed up, baby!
i throw a pity party as i sip
on! rap tapes, i dont need nobody
ima beethoven givin, colt 45
its the year and my gerri curl still drippin
it might sound in my rhyme
but im from the coast
i cant with the hands of time
i am is what i am
if you dont like i am i dont give 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, bank to put my in
i dont wear FUBU like you do 'cause FUBU is
i pull my gat and you shit boo boo sit
you talk too shit, thats why you got hit
home with your gums 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 every cop I meet
I burn down this house that swapped me
Im talkin but you aint hearin
get your gat, i gotta start racketeerin, clearin
all the koreans and all the
the makin money off of black human beings
OH! it up, give it up
its for the black folks to live it up
a-ya-hey! it down, burn it down
run the white cops town, motherfucker
so tell andy griffith that his ass b
runs from the black
it be,
a dictatorship, ran by the klu klan
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
fuck the sheriff in the ass til he and shout
let me out, let me out
let me the whole world the best of me
let me out, let me out
let me control of my destiny

I CAN DO IT, I CAN IT
if you dont 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,
- thats the solution
i made the rap tape, i the CD
fuck the world, GIVE THE MONEY TO ME!
BITCH!

Nobody the Afroman

fuck the and the ku klux klan

ima hungry hustla, east side young