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 if you thugged out
The regime up in bitch!

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

1 *(yukmouth)*

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

No tattoo on you, nigga
No from us
In thugs we
Niggas get rushed hot whitend snuff
Up yo
I fuck up yo
Leave my competition ass
We tag on toes
I'm as cold as
get tied 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 clocker from recipiants
of a crispy
An tupac-er
My race
Jedi
The way I spits ahead of my
Give me a billboard, an you bet I
You mutha
I love
Thug, makin you hug
Stayin away you nothin but bum bustas
The empire is back an we out
Phats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., gonzoe an my nigga
These bitches beggin me to come to
A
But muslims us say, "hum to allah"
They fly, that's on the nigga
You cannot block the regime from knots, no matter what you do

Ya black an nigga
Undercovers malik yoba
Lyrically nina's usin a like yoda!

Verse 3 *(madd of the regime)*

Nigga madd maxx
You cross the regime, you get yo life
We get it fuck the book
thug niggas that turned to real crooks
Robbin the microphone, you get yo brain
I ya we takin over soldier
A sober rollin rover's
Me, ke, gonz, yuk, tech 9, an on ya
All wit the caulked gage, buggin out oklahoma
a corona
We drinkin 8-balls we fall out
If you got a wit the regime, your souls called out
We all out for war
These niggas want no more
I'm takin over like michael
An I'm the to score
So fuck you fake ass who be plannin a plot
I take yo over
Wit the rock
They got us up.

4 *(phats bossalini of the regime)*

They got us up
been tough
Since a young
to prove
Lots of pain some war cuts
It shit, but a thang to me

I the man you claim to be
Niggas strike
Gun fight, we had to back
This is the phats see dream a fat kat
They wanna funk, we get dressed in
Caulk the
Screamin regime til they back
mobb-symboly, I die you remember me
Tatted wit dragons in a custom bently

I'm down to blast so don't me
I'm drunk, an hella blown off the geniti
wit me
See these in mine
Buildin shrine
To these fuckin children of mine
Uh
Look in my
As I the regime nigga
(regime nigga, nigga)
Havin a of money machine.

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

No I've never to the pen
But I did a bid
An I dumb enough to speak on the dirt I've did
Guess caught the killer before the police did
Find him in the car leakin from over split wigs
Deadly lyrics to
Makin sure the killas feelin my
Explicit an adult content
Shot representin at all the major events
And gang got the streets juss way too tense
I learned to wit it
I'm in the fields, windows tinted on my wheel wit the in it
We puffin an rollin real wit it
That jury linin, our diamonds to benifits
Of a long grindin, enjoyin the fruits of our labor
And rented suits from my
Some young playas, for greater
You know all bad
Let's it all good
Pushin the to touch the navvi wit the leather an wood
It's nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

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

*(talking)*

old were you, mr. washington when you hit the streets 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 moved up. I lived where the money goes. then I got busted, 2 and
1/2 in ? ?

when you got out.]

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