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 nigga gettin out.

1 *(yukmouth)*

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

No tattoo on you, nigga
No love us
In we trust
Niggas get rushed hot whitend snuff
Up yo
I up yo flows
Leave my ass froze
We tag on they
I'm as as pocinos
Enemies get tied to a pole, fold then I unload.

2 *(tech n9ne of the regime)*

out
My choppers
the opposite of carribean in tropolis
my z-z in
True clocker welfare recipiants
Type of a
An tupac-er
My caristian
Jedi
The way I ahead of my time
me a billboard, an you bet I climb
You fuckas
I love
Thug, you hug crutches
Stayin away from you nothin but bum
The empire is an we bugged out
Phats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., gonzoe an my nigga
These bitches me to come to menage
A
But muslims us say, "hum to allah"
fly, that's on the crew nigga
You cannot block the regime makin knots, no matter what you do

Ya an blue nigga
Undercovers like malik
Lyrically nina's a force like yoda!

3 *(madd maxx of the regime)*

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

4 *(phats bossalini of the regime)*

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

I play the man you 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
Caulk the
Screamin regime til they back
mobb-symboly, I die you remember me
Tatted wit dragons in a custom coffin

I'm to blast so don't tempt me
I'm hella drunk, an blown off the geniti
wit me
See killas in mine
Buildin this
To feed these fuckin 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 dumb enough to on the dirt I've did
Guess somebody caught the killer the police did
Find him in the car leakin from dope over split
lyrics to spit
Makin sure the feelin my shit
lyrics an adult content
Shot callas representin at all the events
And gang bangin got the streets way too tense
I learned to wit it
I'm in the fields, windows tinted on my wheel wit the in it
We keep an rollin real wit it
That linin, showcasin our diamonds to benifits
Of a time grindin, enjoyin the fruits of our labor
And rented suits from my
Some young playas, strivin for
You it's all bad
make it all good
Pushin the cavvy to the navvi wit the leather an wood
regime nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

The nigga from the "o"
My flow is certified theme music for crime
Niggas burglurised banks, and murdered guys for they pies
for the sky
Techniques like deniro in "heat"
kani's
No disguise, in the of the street
Buckin at
Fuck
Got a rove jeep
Wit 12 open gold teeth
A rolex
links, crops, an bracelets
But that 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 blazed
I the nitroglycerian
That's smoother than a pair of new timberlands
Get
But be no p
I'm a city called weed city
See regime niggas be wit me
Fuck christy remmy
True thugs do an come up wit hits
Like jimmi
Shock the world like at no limit
Yuk signed to rap-a-lot, yeah
I ain't a playa, I juss
the gat
Tryin to snatch yo in the back of the lot
Keep my shit for fragment rock
j struck 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 nigga fresh from nam
Yo get yo mash on. (echos out)

*(talking)*

[how old you, mr. washington when you hit the streets 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 to myself. took it. one block at a time. nobody
me.