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!

up yo hands if you thugged out
First nigga act up, first nigga gettin 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 dragon tattoo on you,
No love us
In thugs we
Niggas get rushed like hot whitend
Up yo
I fuck up yo
my competition ass froze
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 choppers
Speakin the of carribean in tropolis
my z-z in
True clocker from welfare
Type of a
An tupac-er
My caristian
rhyme
The way I spits of my time
Give me a billboard, an you bet I
You fuckas
I love
Thug, makin you hug
Stayin from you nothin but bum bustas
The is back an we bugged out
Phats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., gonzoe an my yukmouth
These beggin me to come to menage
A
But hear us say, "hum to allah"
fly, that's on the crew nigga
You block the regime from makin knots, no matter what you do

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

3 *(madd maxx of the regime)*

Nigga this madd
You cross the regime, you get yo life
We get it fuck the good
True thug niggas that turned to real
the microphone, you get yo brain shook
I ya we takin over soldier
A sober niggas rollin
Me, ke, gonz, yuk, tech 9, an on ya
All ready wit the caulked gage, out oklahoma
Fuck a
We drinkin until we fall out
If you got a wit the regime, your souls called out
We all out for war
These niggas don't no more
I'm takin like michael jordan
An I'm the to score
So fuck you ass niggas who be plannin a plot
I take yo block
Wit the nitroglycerian
got us fucked up.

Verse 4 *(phats of the regime)*

They got us up
I've tough
Since a buck
to prove
Lots of pain some war cuts
It ain't shit, but a to me

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

I'm down to blast so tempt me
I'm hella drunk, an hella blown off the
wit me
See these in mine
Buildin shrine
To feed these children of mine
Uh
in my eyes
As I bleed the nigga
(regime nigga, nigga)
a pile 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 to speak on the dirt I've did
Guess somebody caught the killer before the did
Find him in the car leakin from dope split wigs
lyrics to spit
Makin sure the killas my shit
Explicit an adult content
Shot representin at all the major events
And gang bangin got the streets juss way too
I to deal wit it
I'm in the fields, windows on my wheel wit the steel in it
We keep puffin an real wit it
That jury linin, showcasin our to benifits
Of a time grindin, enjoyin the fruits of our labor
And rented suits my tailors
Some young playas, strivin for
You know all bad
make it all good
Pushin the cavvy to touch the wit the leather an wood
It's nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

The hardest from the "o"
My flow is certified theme music for organized
that burglurised banks, and murdered guys for they pies
for the sky
Techniques like deniro in "heat"
Karl
No disguise, in the middle of the
at police
Fuck
Got a range rove
Wit 12 faced gold teeth
A rolex
Cuban links, crops, an
But that ain't shit, to leave a nigga naked, duct taped wit bitch
In the
the safe is?
Big
raided, but ended up gettin they fuckin squad car grenaded
You blazed shit?
I the nitroglycerian
That's smoother a pair of new cinnamon timberlands
Get
But be no p
I'm from a city called city
See these niggas be wit me
christy juss remmy
True do drugs an come up wit hits
Like hendricks
Shock the world snoop at no limit
Yuk signed to rap-a-lot, 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 underground fragment
Jackpot j it rich hit the lottery
The top
on wallet be from robbin sprees
Rock farm, wit tats all over my arm
Bullet wounds like a fresh back from nam
Yo nigga get yo 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 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 ? ?

when you got out.]

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