Luyện nghe bài hát Out On A Furlough

* car up *
Hey
Any of you guys seen Willie
who, man?
What you bout?
Calloway, Willie
What fool talkin bout?

If y'all think I'm goin back to muthafucka, you're crazy

[ 1: W.C. ]
It all started on a Saturday night, yo, I was restin my
at the pad, smokin herb
Had a show the day, so I figured I'd rest
Cause when I throw a show, I like to give it my
Yo, that's when I the telephone ring
It was my homie named Gee, big from around the way
Said he had a party and he me to come
And I even front, cause I owed him one
See, Gee was a homie a long time ago
When I was young, he to let me get the rag 6-4
I used to sell dope with him, even went to with him
He put me down, ain't no way I could forget him
So now I got coolin at a party
On amp, playin dominos, Bacardi
at a table with some fools I don't know
Rollin the Endo, and sippin on
I had a feelin that wouldn't quit
Bein around too high rollers made me itch
I ain't the one to wear silk, so I like a jerk
I was the only in some jeans and a t-shirt
Fools kept stearin at me, lookin kinda
Big Six on the table all the money
The party was on the drink got low
That's when Gee slid me 10 to make a run to the
He me to roll with his homie named Joe
Smart baller, by the way, who a raggedy Pinto
That's when I knew right and there
I had a feelin it was trouble in the air
Cause now I'm on the roll with this named Joe
Who wore [???] a big-ass afro
Just my luck we got to the side
(What happened?) in the back of the ride
I ain't a snitch, I was thrown in the jailhouse
Doin 5 years over dope I didn't know
No women, and no more shows
Wish I was out on a
[ ]
Time again you wanna me up
me up, lock me up
Time again you lock me up
A nigga me, you wanna lock me up
[ 2: W.C. ]
So now I'm in the jailhouse gettin all
Doin 2 to 5 for nigga I don't know
say jail ain't nothin to sweat
But if you got a rep, you gotta claim your set
But I don't bang, y'all, so what can I
I'm just a funky rapper from the way
But right in my face about a million brothers
Throwin up gangsigns, representin they
Brother Black who ran the yard
me, "Bust a funky rap, and you won't need a bodyguard"
Don't get me wrong, y'all, I'm far from
But for the six months I was rappin my ass off
Now here we go, I had the whole
Rockin and forth, and even the wardens
Threw their hands in the air I bust a rhyme
But now the chow line, y'all, was one big
But that's when a jumped off
And threw me in the box for startin it off
They me for the next 7 months, if I laid low
Then I'd be for a furlough
[ ]
[ 3: W.C. ]
Finally I'm out on a
Back on the in a Coupe that's sittin kinda low
Yo, come to that the group Low Pro done went solo
Now it's all aobut the Maad
I'm hangin out with and Coolio
out the brown paperbag, dodgin my P.O.
I'm only to be out for one day
But the judge don't know I'm a runaway
Something like a fugitive, but I don't run, I bust back,
No more sittin in the hole eatin balls
Now I pack my bag and my gat
And have the Maad Circle put me down on
And lay low like a in the grass
Change my profile and do away the past
And now I'm gettin to be a vocalist
to the law, though I'm wanted on a hit list
Crazy Tunes, Coolio and Gee's the Maad
And still to this day, yo, I'm out on a
[ ]
(He's twenty-somethin years old
And he gon' do 20, gon' do 20 years
what he hollerin about, you know?
Cause the guy, he's - he 20 old
You know, he in his
He's rude, and all that there, you know
He -
It's just me:
I came in the penitentiary when I was 22 old
You know, that's - that's the
You know, now - now I'm 40
You see I'm sayin?
The man bout he want me to do - 20 mo' years)