Luyện nghe bài hát Turn The Party Out

Intro:

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

one: loot pack

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

Verse tash

Bitches on my woody I likes to get the loosest
I eat up and wash em down with deuce gooses
A colt .45 'cause I gotsta rush the
from the group that the bitches wanna get with
I it from the east all the way to the west
Yes stay from booze that puts the hair on your chest
And that's a little of advice for the kiddos
I bust 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 your ass is drunk, ride with someone sober

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

Verse loot pack, j-ro

I'ma wreck the neck conducting 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 gotta get snaps and spit raps on the
On and on to the beat I wreck
Scoop a rumplestil-skin then I'm out, the with the clout
Be so dead on the loopa, the wrecka mic checka
I roll soul an old trooper
I to play football, now I'm into rockin
My is the tailback, the track is the blockin
My name is j-ro and been waitin for ages
To let the world know what I've writin on the pages
I don't smoke sess it's on the west
Ok, I confess, I puff on the
I rip it when I wreck it, when I mic it
Brothers check the flav, check the alkaholik
While I flip styles, and rip styles, and hit
And hit for miles of styles, I still pile
The flavor flippin funk, bringin diesel be the
A trooper loop, scoop you like a hula-hoop and ya
you stutter, I ribbedyribbedyribbedyrip styles, I'm comin
The loot pack, tha alkaholiks keepin niggaz

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

Verse e-swift

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

Ay fuck that the party's over man!
Everybody get they get the fuck out