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

1 *(yukmouth)*

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

No dragon tattoo on you,
No love us
In we trust
Niggas get like hot whitend snuff
Up yo
I fuck up yo
my competition ass froze
We tag on toes
I'm as cold as
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 welfare recipiants
of a crispy
An tupac-er
My race
Jedi
The way I spits of my time
me a billboard, an you bet I climb
You fuckas
I love
Thug, makin you hug
Stayin away you nothin but bum bustas
The is back an we bugged out
Phats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., an my nigga yukmouth
These bitches beggin me to come to
A
But muslims us say, "hum to allah"
They fly, that's on the nigga
You cannot block the regime from makin knots, no matter you do

Ya an blue nigga
Undercovers malik yoba
Lyrically usin a force like yoda!

Verse 3 *(madd of the regime)*

this madd maxx
You cross the regime, you get yo life
We get it fuck the good
True thug niggas that to real crooks
the microphone, you get yo brain shook
I told ya we takin over
A sober niggas rover's
Me, ke, gonz, yuk, tech 9, an on ya
All wit the caulked 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 michael jordan
An I'm the to score
So fuck you fake ass niggas who be plannin a
I take yo over
Wit the nitroglycerian
They got us up.

4 *(phats bossalini of the regime)*

They got us up
I've tough
Since a buck
to prove
Lots of plus 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 til they bust back
It's mobb-symboly, I die you me
Tatted wit dragons in a coffin bently

I'm to blast so don't tempt me
I'm hella drunk, an hella off the geniti
wit me
See these in mine
Buildin this
To these fuckin children of mine
Uh
Look in my
As I the regime nigga
(regime nigga, nigga)
Havin a pile of 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 before the police did
Find him in the car leakin from dope split wigs
lyrics to spit
Makin sure the killas feelin my
Explicit an adult content
Shot representin at all the major events
And bangin got the streets juss way too tense
I learned to wit it
I'm in the fields, tinted on my wheel 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
young playas, strivin for greater
You it's all bad
make it all good
Pushin the cavvy to the navvi wit the leather an wood
It's nigga!

6 *(yukmouth)*

The nigga from the "o"
My is certified theme music for organized crime
Niggas that burglurised banks, and guys for they pies
for the sky
Techniques robert deniro in "heat"
Karl
No disguise, in the of the street
at police
Fuck
Got a range jeep
Wit 12 open gold teeth
A piece
Cuban links, crops, an
But that ain't shit, to leave a nigga naked, duct wit they bitch
In the
Where the is?
Big
Cops raided, but ended up gettin they fuckin squad car
You blazed shit?
I spit the
That's smoother than a of new cinnamon timberlands
Get
But be no p
I'm from a city weed city
See regime niggas be wit me
Fuck christy juss
True thugs do drugs an come up wit
Like hendricks
Shock the like 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 in the back of the lot
Keep my for underground fragment rock
Jackpot j struck it 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 us a description of how you lived, the next few
Years.]

I kinda moved up. I lived the money goes. then 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.