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 up in this bitch!

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

1 *(yukmouth)*

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

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

Verse 2 *(tech of the regime)*

out
My choppers
Speakin the opposite of carribean in
my z-z in
True clocker from recipiants
Type of a
An anamalisitc
My race
rhyme
The way I spits of my time
me a billboard, an you bet I climb
You fuckas
I love
Thug, makin you hug
away from you nothin but bum bustas
The is back an we bugged out
Phats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., gonzoe an my nigga
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 from makin knots, no matter what you do

Ya black an blue
Undercovers like malik
Lyrically nina's usin a 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 thug niggas that to real crooks
Robbin the microphone, you get yo brain
I ya we takin over soldier
A sober niggas rollin
Me, ke, gonz, yuk, tech 9, an on ya
All ready wit the gage, buggin out oklahoma
a corona
We drinkin 8-balls until we out
If you got a wit the regime, your souls called out
We all out for war
These niggas don't want no
I'm takin over like jordan
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
I've tough
Since a young
to prove
Lots of plus some war cuts
It shit, but a thang to me

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

I'm down to blast so tempt me
I'm hella drunk, an hella off the geniti
wit me
See killas in mine
Buildin this
To feed fuckin children of mine
Uh
Look in my
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 enough to speak on the dirt I've did
Guess caught the killer before the police did
Find him in the car leakin from dope over wigs
Deadly lyrics to
Makin the killas feelin my shit
Explicit lyrics an adult
Shot callas representin at all the major
And gang got the streets 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 rollin wit it
That linin, showcasin our diamonds to benifits
Of a long time grindin, enjoyin the fruits of our
And rented suits from my
Some young playas, for greater
You know all bad
Let's make it all
Pushin the cavvy to touch the wit the leather an wood
It's nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

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

*(talking)*

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

10.

[how did you ]

I a runner.

[a runner.]

right.

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

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

[and you got out.]

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