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!

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

1 *(yukmouth)*

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

No dragon on you, nigga
No love us
In thugs we
Niggas get rushed hot whitend snuff
Up yo
I up yo flows
my competition ass froze
We tag on toes
I'm as as pocinos
Enemies get tied to a pole, blind then I unload.

2 *(tech n9ne of the regime)*

out
My oblivion
Speakin the of carribean in tropolis
my z-z in
True clocker from recipiants
Type of a
An anamalisitc
My race
Jedi
The way I spits of my time
Give me a billboard, an you bet I
You mutha
I love
Thug, you hug crutches
Stayin away from you nothin but bum
The empire is an we bugged out
Phats, keke, maxx, l.q., gonzoe an my nigga yukmouth
These bitches beggin me to to menage
A
But muslims us say, "hum to allah"
They fly, that's on the nigga
You cannot block the regime from makin knots, no what you do

Ya black an blue
Undercovers like malik
nina's usin a force like yoda!

3 *(madd maxx of the regime)*

Nigga madd maxx
You cross the regime, you get yo took
We get it the good book
True thug that turned to real crooks
the microphone, you get yo brain 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 caulked gage, out oklahoma
Fuck a
We drinkin 8-balls until we out
If you got a problem wit the regime, souls called out
We all out for war
niggas don't want no more
I'm takin over michael jordan
An I'm the to score
So fuck you fake ass who be plannin a plot
I yo block over
Wit the rock
got us fucked up.

Verse 4 *(phats of the regime)*

They got us up
been tough
Since a young
Nothin to
Lots of pain plus war cuts
It ain't shit, but a to me

I play the man you to be
Niggas strike
Gun fight, we had to back
This is the phats see like a fat kat
They wanna funk, we get in black
the strap
Screamin regime til they bust
It's mobb-symboly, I die you me
Tatted wit in a custom coffin bently

I'm down to blast so tempt me
I'm drunk, an hella blown off the geniti
wit me
See these killas in
Buildin this
To feed these fuckin of mine
Uh
Look in my
As I bleed the regime
(regime nigga, nigga)
Havin a of money machine.

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

No I've been to the pen
But I did a bid
An I ain't dumb enough to speak on the dirt did
Guess somebody caught the killer the police did
Find him in the car leakin from dope over wigs
Deadly lyrics to
Makin sure the feelin my shit
Explicit an adult content
callas representin at all the major events
And gang bangin got the juss way too tense
I to deal wit it
I'm in the fields, windows tinted on my wit the steel in it
We keep puffin an real wit it
That jury linin, showcasin our diamonds to
Of a long time grindin, the fruits of our labor
And rented suits from my
Some young playas, for greater
You know all bad
make it all good
Pushin the to touch the navvi wit the leather an wood
regime nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

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

*(talking)*

[how old were you, mr. 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 kinda 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.