Luyện nghe bài hát Let Me Out

i dont wanna yay
get my door in by the kkk
said the police
lookin for the piece inside my caprice

from the of the ghetto
i try to
ya caught my
on a CD or rap
i make it take it
to the mom and papa
for a proper cash
the mom and papa store

dont want no more on consignment
find alignment
come back another
don't even know who you is
you a name in the music biz

your album, for one, has no
your elbows and kneecaps no lotion
ashy, your music is trashy
outkast, they class me
out the is where they catch me
(WHERE?)
Straight into the
(WHERE YOU GOIN?)
now im on my way to swap
(SAY WHAT?)
Tryn to make a mil a record deal
selling tapes off the of my Coupe de ville (Bucka!)

on the street is hard
in a fight with the white security
talkin 'no solicitin, no publicitin'
I try to talk to him but nope he not
Punk ass, ass, cant slam dunk ass
skunk ass, ass, sufferin suckatash!
Now i'm seein a black workin for a Korean
tellin me i cant be in the that i be in
you can spend your here
you make no money here
you better get outta here ya here
did i make clear?
i go and drink a
til im in my belly
big as elliot (EEEEEE!)

I'm so plus overstressed
rap so hard im obsessed
sometimes i cock my heat
make them punks my song on the beat (BUCKA!!!!)

let me out, let me out
let me the whole world what im all about
let me out, let me out
let me rap til the party scream n shout
let me out, let me out
let me the whole world the best of me
let me out, let me out
let me take contol of my

depressed,
smokin,
black,
monster,
sellin,
money,
down for a murder,
roberta flack
get dressed up, get my pressed up
'cause the music industry is up, baby!
i throw a party as i sip bacardi
sell on! rap tapes, i need nobody
ima beethoven givin, 45 sippin
its the year and my gerri curl still drippin
it might sound strange in my
but im from the west
i cant change with the hands of
what i am is i am
if you dont like i am i dont give a damn
black pecker's my title, john king is my
im havin thats suicidal, young rival
i dont care fashion, just cadillac mashin
bags to put my grass in, to put my cash in
i dont wear FUBU like you do 'cause FUBU is
i pull my gat and you shit boo boo sit
you talk too much shit, why you got hit
walkin home with your split
i sit, sell yay, eryday (BUCKA!)
N.W.A. (BUCK-BUCKA-BUCKA!)
cruisin down the street in my 6
punk get GA-FFO, bitch
I wanna kill cop I meet
I wanna burn down this house that me
Im talkin smack but you aint
get your gat, i gotta start racketeerin, clearin
all the koreans and all the
the ones makin off of black human beings
OH! it up, give it up
its time for the black to live it up
a-ya-hey! burn it down, burn it
run the white outta town, motherfucker
so tell andy that his punk ass b
from the black vigilante
it be,
a dictatorship, ran by the klu klan
the wrath of the afroman

let me out, let me out
let me these motherfuckers what im all about
let me out, let me out
the sheriff in the ass til he scream and shout
let me out, let me out
let me show the whole the best of me
let me out, let me out
let me take control of my

I CAN DO IT, I CAN IT
if you give it to me baby, ima take it
the music industry, fuck the music biz
i my own rap tape and tell it like it is
revolution,
revolution - the solution
i made the rap tape, i the CD
fuck the corporate world, GIVE THE TO ME!
BITCH!

Nobody understand the

fuck the police and the ku klux

ima hungry hustla, east side young