Luyện nghe bài hát Turn The Party Out

Intro:

Yeah, tha
Ay j, I got a
They the loot pack
And they can get crazy y'all, crazy fresh y'all
My man jack is to get fresh y'all

Verse one: loot

Check the flavor here's a rootin tootin trooper
Tha alkaholik grouper in the and when I bust the hula-hooper
my ish, when I flips next I flash with the cracker jacker
A loot packer
Gettin when I smile toastin to the funk
All put your glass down, or end up in the trunk
You wonder my dope styles sound kind of varied
The pictionary, man my backpack, I'll carey
took her back, and show her how I pack, loot
Kick on originally outtrack black in fact
call me moody, I simply knocks the booty
Pull up my hoody, and then I a sam goody

Verse tash

Bitches on my woody 'cause I to get the loosest
I eat niggaz up and wash em down with deuce
A colt .45 'cause I rush the likwit
Tash from the that the bitches wanna get with
I kick it from the all the way to the west
Yes stay away from booze that puts the on your chest
And a little piece of advice for the kiddos
I bust more than your teacher got dittoes
I it up to date or take it back like the twist
E-swift is out of town so the load the disc
So, take your ass home, good night, the party's
If ass is drunk, ride home with someone sober

Yeah... tha alkaholiks, ah yeah, the loot
(the party's over, it's all over) nineteen
And this is how we it

Verse three: pack, j-ro

I'ma wreck the conducting props like randy wrecker
The mecca licka mega-hot mega-mike
me diesel to the easel, the weasel, the wacky
The packy, the rikki, tikki, the
One for the trouble, two for the
I get snaps and spit raps on the double
On and on to the beat I wreck
Scoop a rumplestil-skin I'm out, the brother with the clout
Be so dead on the loopa, the super-duper wrecka mic
I roll soul an old trooper
I used to football, now I'm into rockin
My rhyme is the tailback, the track is the
My name is j-ro and I've waitin for ages
To let the world know what been writin on the pages
I don't sess it's rough on the west
Ok, I confess, I puff on the
I rip it I wreck it, when I mic check it
Brothers the flav, check the alkaholik record
While I styles, and rip styles, and hit styles
And hit for miles of styles, I still pile
The flavor flippin funk, bringin be the packer
A trooper loop, scoop you a hula-hoop and smack ya
you stutter, I ribbedyribbedyribbedyrip styles, I'm comin
The loot pack, tha alkaholiks keepin niggaz

Runnin, yeah, do that shit,
Turn the out, yeah yeah
Turn the party out, c'mon

Verse e-swift

You think that you can this, you must be out to lunch
They call me e-swift, I'm from tha alkaholik
I downed a brew, now check out one two
It's the liks rockin with the loot pack crew
Funky like con-funk-shun, more than stylistics
I got mo' beats than magic's got so
Raise up off me, or get by the collar
The party ain't till that fat bitch holler
I'm in the house so check the way I
Niggaz say I'm fat, I say I know
But my head ain't swoll, I down to earth
Never gangbang, never claim the
But I a gang of forties, ain't nuttin wrong with that
Unless you go buckwild and start bustin off gat
*bang, bang

Ay nigga fuck the party's over man!
get they shit get the fuck out