Luyện nghe bài hát Thugged Out

Yo! do this!
Uh!
Uh-oh, uh-oh!
Ha!
Uh-oh, uh-oh!
Ha!
Uh-oh, uh-oh!
Uh-oh, uh-oh!
nigga!
Throw up yo hands if you out
The regime up in bitch!

Throw up yo if you thugged out
First nigga act up, nigga gettin drugged out.
Throw up yo hands if you out
First nigga act up, first nigga drugged out.

1 *(yukmouth)*

I do for the
killas, and drug dealers
Affiliated wit mobb niggas, and spillas
Put a slug through you tough

No tattoo on you, nigga
No love us
In we trust
Niggas get rushed like hot snuff
Up yo
I fuck up yo
my competition ass froze
We tag on toes
I'm as cold as
Enemies get to a pole, blind fold then I unload.

Verse 2 *(tech of the regime)*

out
My oblivion
Speakin the opposite of in tropolis
my z-z in
True from welfare recipiants
of a crispy
An anamalisitc
My caristian
rhyme
The way I spits of my time
Give me a billboard, an you bet I
You mutha
I love
Thug, you hug crutches
Stayin from you nothin but bum bustas
The empire is an we bugged out
Phats, keke, maxx, l.q., gonzoe an my nigga yukmouth
bitches beggin me to come to menage
A
But hear us say, "hum to allah"
fly, that's on the crew nigga
You cannot block the regime from makin knots, no matter you do

Ya black an nigga
Undercovers malik yoba
Lyrically usin a force like yoda!

3 *(madd maxx of the regime)*

Nigga this madd
You cross the regime, you get yo took
We get it fuck the book
True niggas that turned to real crooks
Robbin the microphone, you get yo shook
I told ya we takin over
A niggas rollin rover's
Me, ke, gonz, yuk, 9, an phats on ya
All ready wit the gage, buggin out oklahoma
a corona
We drinkin 8-balls we fall out
If you got a problem wit the regime, your souls out
We all out for war
niggas don't want no more
I'm over like michael jordan
An I'm the to score
So fuck you ass niggas who be plannin a plot
I take yo over
Wit the nitroglycerian
got us fucked up.

Verse 4 *(phats of the regime)*

got us fucked up
I've been
Since a young
Nothin to
Lots of pain plus war cuts
It shit, but a thang to me

I the man you claim to be
strike back
Gun fight, we had to hype
This is the phats see like a fat kat
They wanna funk, we get in black
the strap
Screamin regime til bust back
mobb-symboly, I die you remember me
Tatted wit dragons in a custom coffin

I'm to blast so don't tempt me
I'm hella drunk, an hella blown off the
wit me
See these in mine
Buildin this
To feed these fuckin of mine
Uh
in my eyes
As I the regime nigga
(regime nigga, nigga)
a pile of money machine.

5 *(poppa l.q. of the regime)*

No I've never to the pen
But I did a bid
An I ain't dumb enough to speak on the I've did
Guess caught the killer before the police did
Find him in the car from dope over split wigs
lyrics to spit
Makin sure the killas feelin my
Explicit lyrics an content
Shot representin at all the major events
And bangin got the streets juss way too tense
I learned to wit it
I'm in the fields, windows tinted on my wit the steel in it
We keep an rollin real wit it
That linin, showcasin our diamonds to benifits
Of a long time grindin, enjoyin the of our labor
And rented from my tailors
Some young playas, strivin for
You it's all bad
Let's make it all
Pushin the to touch the navvi wit the leather an wood
regime nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

The hardest nigga the "o"
My flow is certified music for organized crime
Niggas that burglurised banks, and murdered for they pies
for the sky
Techniques like deniro in "heat"
kani's
No disguise, in the middle of the
at police
Fuck
Got a range rove
Wit 12 open faced gold
A rolex
Cuban links, crops, an
But that ain't shit, to leave a nigga naked, duct taped wit they
In the
Where the is?
Big
Cops raided, but ended up gettin fuckin squad car grenaded
You want blazed
I the nitroglycerian
smoother than a pair of new cinnamon timberlands
Get
But be no p
I'm a city called weed city
See regime niggas be wit me
christy juss remmy
True thugs do drugs an come up wit
Like hendricks
Shock the like snoop at no limit
Yuk signed to rap-a-lot, yeah
I a playa, I juss mack-a-lot
the gat
Tryin to snatch yo watch in the of the lot
Keep my shit for underground fragment
Jackpot j it rich hit the lottery
The top
Blood on wallet be from robbin
Rock phat farm, wit tats all my arm
wounds like a nigga fresh back from nam
Yo get yo mash on. (echos out)

*(talking)*

[how old were you, mr. washington when you hit the permanatly? ]

10.

[how did you ]

I a runner.

[a runner.]

right.

[could you give us a description of how you lived, the few
Years.]

I kinda moved up. I lived where the goes. then I got busted, 2 and
1/2 in ? ?

[and you got out.]

I got a piece of turf to myself. it. one block at a time. nobody
me.