Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Thugged Out Shit, artist - DJ Clue. Album song The Professional, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Thugged Out Shit |
Geah, What? |
Niggas Bleek, Duro |
We live |
Thugged out |
Marcy, Smoked out |
Yeah |
Uh, yo, yo |
Im on now |
Therfore your ready rock |
Compare to this fishtale baggin rocks |
Now give me Bill Gates money |
A little strait money |
Big or small faces its been in all places |
I was schooled by them older guys |
They showed me how to drive these ??? |
Chop dueces and old rubers |
Have a nigga rocked up then knocked up |
Plenty y’all wit his chest out gettin stocked up |
We trade war stories back on the streets |
When we played em messhall |
Niggas get’em on his eats |
Im a foul little nigga, wild little nigga |
Dedicated to these streets a pump valve little nigga |
You hear about my wherabouts? |
Bitches I don’t care about |
Money Im a man about |
Drama Im a air it out |
Niggas hate Bleek cause I live right |
You’d love to see me broke frontin |
Wit no chips right? |
Who wanna hear some more thugged out shit?(what) |
Who wanna hear that get smoked out shit?(geah) |
Who want to hear some real live type shit?(huh) |
Who want it wit that oh, chest out shit?(what) |
But this Bleek life my young niggas I tell ya |
I went from a failure, holdin paraphanalia |
Weight scales, twelve-twelves, dimes and fishtales |
Cooked up and bagged up |
My life was fucked up, but I looked at it this way |
If I dont make it this way, then im a do it this way |
Blaze my heat, while Im after them nickels |
Fuck six I chase nine fucken zeros |
Digits I got four of them, want five more of them |
Bitches when I told’em flies bring more of them |
I fuck’em never call’em, my dough must have spoiled em |
Nigga blew roll wit’em but now im ignoring them |
This street life kept Bleek tight with heat right |
On the ten-speed herbed up, nigga word up |
You saw me, but if not your man did |
I know I pull gats on y’all for crack shit |
Yeah uh-huh |
My niggas roll dice in the back park |
We sip bacardi darked wit sprite all night |
Till the sky get bruised or thug nigga lose |
Pull out two-two's only catch two, hundred |
Half the crowd skated? |
when? |
which you wanted |
This nigga got shaky and panic when you fronted |
When he saw the black kron |
I thought the nigga wore a thong |
The way he froze his arm |
Dukes said its on |
He stripped to his drawers when he heard one raw |
Took off half ass when the nigga spit more |
And we all spit game you niggas? |
heard free? |
game |
By soft motherfuckers, you lame mothefuckers |
I fall, I get back |
To test my worth |
I tell heads to hit that, its raw get rid of that |
My worker take thirty off a bundle |
Dodging the bikers, and’em D’s |
When they rush the jungle |
So we stash in the fences |
Sit low on the benches |
Keep a small gun in case its on in the trenches |
Yo |
We live |
For the thugged niggas, Marcy |
What? |
We out |