Luyện nghe bài hát Let Me Out

i wanna sell yay
get my door in by the kkk
shoulda the police
lookin for the quarter piece my caprice

from the tracks of the
i try to
ya my music
on a CD or rap
i it then take it
to the mom and store
for a cash flo'
from the mom and store

dont want no more rappers on
find another
back another climate
people don't even who you is
you a name in the music biz

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

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

I'm so depressed plus
rap so hard im obsessed
sometimes i wanna cock my
make them play my song on the beat (BUCKA!!!!)

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

depressed,
smokin,
black,
monster,
sellin,
money,
down for a murder,
like flack
get dressed up, get my tapes up
the music industry is messed up, baby!
i a pity party as i sip bacardi
on! rap tapes, i dont need nobody
ima beethoven givin, 45 sippin
its the year 2000 and my gerri curl still
it might strange in my rhyme
but im the west coast
i cant change with the of time
i am is what i am
if you like what i am i dont give a damn
pecker's my title, john king is my idol
im havin thoughts thats suicidal, rival
i dont care about fashion, cadillac mashin
bags to put my in, bank to put my cash in
i dont wear FUBU like you do FUBU is booboo
i pull my gat and you shit boo boo sit
you too much shit, thats why you got hit
home with your gums split
while i sit, sell yay, (BUCKA!)
N.W.A. (BUCK-BUCKA-BUCKA!)
cruisin down the street in my 6
punk niggas get GA-FFO,
I wanna kill cop I meet
I wanna burn down this house that me
Im talkin smack but you hearin
get your gat, i start racketeerin, plus clearin
all the koreans and all the
the makin money off of black human beings
OH! give it up, it up
its for the black folks to live it up
a-ya-hey! burn it down, burn it
run the white cops outta town,
so tell andy griffith 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 show these what im all about
let me out, let me out
fuck the sheriff in the ass til he scream and
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 - thats the
i made the rap tape, i the CD
fuck the world, GIVE THE MONEY TO ME!
BITCH!

Nobody understand the

fuck the police and the ku klan

ima hungry hustla, east side young