Luyện nghe bài hát Turn The Party Out

Intro:

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

Verse one: pack

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

two: tash

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

Yeah... tha alkaholiks, ah yeah, the pack
(the over, it's all over) nineteen ninety-three
And is how we kick it

Verse three: loot pack,

I'ma wreck the conducting props like randy wrecker
The mecca licka mega-hot mega-mike
Call me diesel to the easel, the weasel, the
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 shop
Scoop a rumplestil-skin then I'm out, the brother with the
Be so on the loopa, the super-duper wrecka mic checka
I soul like an old trooper
I used to play football, now I'm rockin
My rhyme is the tailback, the is the blockin
My is j-ro and I've been waitin for ages
To let the world know what been writin on the pages
I don't smoke sess it's rough on the
Ok, I confess, I on the stress
I rip it when I it, when I mic check it
Brothers check the flav, check the record
I flip styles, and rip styles, and hit styles
And hit piles for miles of styles, I pile
The flavor flippin funk, bringin diesel be the
A trooper loop, scoop you a hula-hoop and smack ya
Like you stutter, I ribbedyribbedyribbedyrip styles, I'm
The loot pack, tha alkaholiks keepin runnin

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

Verse four:

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

Ay nigga fuck that the over man!
Everybody get shit get the fuck out