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 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
killas, and drug dealers
Affiliated wit niggas, and blood spillas
Put a through you tough niggas

No dragon on you, nigga
No from us
In we trust
Niggas get rushed hot whitend snuff
Up yo
I fuck up yo
Leave my competition ass
We tag on they
I'm as cold as
Enemies get tied to a pole, fold then I unload.

2 *(tech n9ne of the regime)*

out
My oblivion
Speakin the of carribean in tropolis
my z-z in
True clocker welfare recipiants
Type of a
An anamalisitc
My race
Jedi
The way I ahead of my time
Give me a billboard, an you bet I
You mutha
I love
Thug, makin you hug
Stayin away from you but bum bustas
The is back an we bugged out
Phats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., an my nigga yukmouth
These bitches me to come to menage
A
But muslims us say, "hum to allah"
They fly, that's on the nigga
You block the regime from makin knots, no matter what you do

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

Verse 3 *(madd of the regime)*

Nigga this maxx
You the regime, you get yo life took
We get it fuck the good
True thug niggas that to real crooks
Robbin the microphone, you get yo shook
I told ya we takin over
A sober niggas rover's
Me, ke, gonz, yuk, 9, an phats on ya
All ready wit the caulked gage, buggin out
Fuck a
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 takin over like jordan
An I'm the first to
So fuck you fake ass niggas who be a plot
I yo block over
Wit the rock
got us fucked up.

Verse 4 *(phats of the regime)*

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

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

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

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

No never 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 before the police did
Find him in the car leakin from over split wigs
lyrics to spit
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 learned to wit it
I'm in the fields, windows on my wheel wit the steel in it
We puffin an rollin real wit it
That jury linin, showcasin our to benifits
Of a long time grindin, the fruits of our labor
And rented suits my tailors
young playas, strivin for greater
You it's all bad
Let's make it all
the cavvy to touch the navvi wit the leather an wood
It's nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

The hardest nigga the "o"
My flow is certified theme music for organized
Niggas that burglurised banks, and murdered guys for pies
for the sky
Techniques like robert in "heat"
kani's
No disguise, in the of the street
Buckin at
Fuck
Got a rove jeep
Wit 12 open gold teeth
A piece
links, crops, an bracelets
But that ain't shit, to leave a naked, duct taped wit they bitch
In the
the safe is?
Big
Cops raided, but ended up they fuckin squad car grenaded
You blazed shit?
I the nitroglycerian
smoother than a pair of new cinnamon timberlands
Get
But be no p
I'm from a city called city
See regime niggas be wit me
christy juss remmy
True do drugs an come up wit hits
Like jimmi
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 in the back of the lot
Keep my shit for underground fragment
j struck it rich hit the lottery
The top
Blood on wallet be from robbin
phat farm, wit tats all over my arm
Bullet wounds a nigga fresh back from nam
Yo get yo mash on. (echos out)

*(talking)*

[how old were you, mr. washington 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 moved up. I lived the money goes. then I got busted, 2 and
1/2 in ? ?

[and you got out.]

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