Thugged Out — текст песни (Yukmouth)





Yo! lets do this!

Uh!

Uh-oh, uh-oh!

Ha!

Uh-oh, uh-oh!

Ha!

Uh-oh, uh-oh!

Uh-oh, uh-oh!

Regime nigga!

Throw up yo hands if you thugged out

The regime up in this bitch!



Throw up yo hands if you thugged out

First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out.

Throw up yo hands if you thugged out

First nigga act up, first nigga gettin drugged out.



Verse 1 *(yukmouth)*



I do this for the

Real killas, and drug dealers

Affiliated wit mobb niggas, and blood spillas

Put a slug through you tough niggas

1-800-thugs-r-us

No dragon tattoo on you, nigga

No love from us

In thugs we trust

Niggas get rushed like hot whitend snuff

Up yo nose

I fuck up yo flows

Leave my competition ass froze

We tag on they toes

Im as cold as pocinos

Enemies get tied to a pole, blind fold then I unload.



Verse 2 *(tech n9ne of the regime)*



Thugged out

My choppers oblivion

Speakin the opposite of carribean in tropolis

Poppin my z-z in

True clocker from welfare recipiants

Type of a crispy

An anamalisitc tupac-er

My race caristian

Jedi rhyme

The way I spits ahead of my time

Give me a billboard, an you bet I climb

You mutha fuckas

I love rukus

Thug, makin you hug crutches

Stayin away from you nothin but bum bustas

The empire is back an we bugged out

Phats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., gonzoe an my nigga yukmouth

These bitches beggin me to come to menage

A trios

But muslims hear us say, "hum to allah"

They fly, thats on the crew nigga

You cannot block the regime from makin knots, no matter what you do

Nigga

Ya black an blue nigga

Undercovers like malik yoba

Lyrically ninas usin a force like yoda!



Verse 3 *(madd maxx of the regime)*



Nigga this madd maxx

You cross the regime, you get yo life took

We get it fuck the good book

True thug niggas that turned to real crooks

Robbin the microphone, you get yo brain shook

I told ya we takin over soldier

A sober niggas rollin rovers

Me, ke, gonz, yuk, tech 9, an phats on ya

All ready wit the caulked gage, buggin out oklahoma

Fuck a corona

We drinkin 8-balls until we fall out

If you got a problem wit the regime, your souls called out

We all out for war

These niggas dont want no more

Im takin over like michael jordan

An Im the first to score

So fuck you fake ass niggas who be plannin a plot

I take yo block over

Wit the nitroglycerian rock

They got us fucked up.



Verse 4 *(phats bossalini of the regime)*



They got us fucked up

Ive been tough

Since a young buck

Nothin to prove

Lots of pain plus some war cuts

It aint shit, but a thang to me

Dangerously

I play the man you claim to be

Niggas strike back

Gun fight, we had to hype back

This is the phats see dream like a fat kat

They wanna funk, we get dressed in black

Caulk the strap

Screamin regime til they bust back

Its mobb-symboly, I die you remember me

Tatted wit dragons in a custom coffin bently

Simply

Im down to blast so dont tempt me

Im hella drunk, an hella blown off the geniti

Fuck wit me

See these killas in mine

Buildin this shrine

To feed these fuckin children of mine

Uh

Look in my eyes

As I bleed the regime nigga

(regime nigga, regime nigga)

Havin a pile of money machine.



Verse 5 *(poppa l.q. of the regime)*



No Ive never been to the pen

But I did a county bid

An I aint dumb enough to speak on the dirt Ive did

Guess somebody caught the killer before the police did

Find him in the car leakin from dope over split wigs

Deadly lyrics to spit

Makin sure the killas feelin my shit

Explicit lyrics an adult content

Shot callas representin at all the major events

And gang bangin got the streets juss way too tense

I learned to deal wit it

Im in the fields, windows tinted on my wheel wit the steel in it

We keep puffin an rollin real wit it

That jury linin, showcasin our diamonds to benifits

Of a long time grindin, enjoyin the fruits of our labor

And rented suits from my tailors

Some young playas, strivin for greater

You know its all bad

Lets make it all good

Pushin the cavvy to touch the navvi wit the leather an wood

Its regime nigga!



Verse 6 *(yukmouth)*



The hardest nigga from the "o"

My flow is certified theme music for organized crime

Niggas that burglurised banks, and murdered guys for they pies

Reach for the sky

Techniques like robert deniro in "heat"

Karl kanis

No disguise, in the middle of the street

Buckin at police

Fuck police

Got a range rove jeep

Wit 12 open faced gold teeth

A rolex piece

Cuban links, crops, an bracelets

But that aint shit, to leave a nigga naked, duct taped wit they bitch

In the basement

Where the safe is?

Big faces

Cops raided, but ended up gettin they fuckin squad car grenaded

You want blazed shit?

I spit the nitroglycerian

Thats smoother than a pair of new cinnamon timberlands

Get benjamins

But be no p diddy

Im from a city called weed city

See these regime niggas be wit me

Fuck christy juss remmy

True thugs do drugs an come up wit hits

Like jimmi hendricks

Shock the world like snoop at no limit

Yuk signed to rap-a-lot, yeah nigga

I aint a playa, I juss mack-a-lot

Pack the gat

Tryin to snatch yo watch in the back of the lot

Keep my shit for underground fragment rock

Jackpot j struck it rich hit the lottery

The top comidity

Blood on wallet be from robbin sprees

Rock phat farm, wit tats all over my arm

Bullet wounds like a nigga fresh back from nam

Yo nigga get yo mash on. (echos out)



*(talking)*



[how old were you, mr. washington when you hit the streets permanatly? ]



Maybe 10.



[how did you live? ]



I became a runner.



[a drug runner.]



Thats right.



[could you give us a description of how you lived, the next few

Years.]



I kinda moved up. I lived where the money goes. then I got busted, 2 and

1/2 in ? ?



[and when you got out.]



I got a piece of turf to myself. took it. one block at a time. nobody

Stopped me.



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