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Young Buck » Thugged Out
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	Yo! Let's 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 bith! 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 fk up yo flows Leave my competition as froze We tag on they toes I'm 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 f*kas 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 bithes beggin me to come to Menage A Trios But Muslims hear us say, 'hum to Allah' They fly, that's 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 Nina's 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 fk 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 Rover's Me, Ke, Gonz, Yuk, Tech 9, an Phats on ya All ready wit the caulked gage, buggin out Oklahoma Fk 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 don't want no more I'm takin over like Michael Jordan An I'm the first to score So f*k you fake as niggas who be plannin a plot I take yo block over Wit the nitroglycerian rock They got us fked up. (Verse 4: Phats Bossalini of the Regime) They got us fked up I've been tough Since a young buck Nothin to prove Lots of pain plus some war cuts It ain't 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 It's Mobb-symboly, I die you remember me Tatted wit Dragons in a custom coffin Bently Simply I'm down to blast so don't tempt me I'm hella drunk, an hella blown off the geniti Fk wit me See these killas in mine Buildin this shrine To feed these fkin 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 I've never been to the pen But I did a county bid An I ain't dumb enough to speak on the dirt I've 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 I'm 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 it's all bad Let's make it all good Pushin the Cavvy to touch the Navvi wit the leather an wood It's 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 Kani's No disguise, in the middle of the street Buckin at police F*k police Got a Range Rove jeep Wit 12 open faced gold teeth A Rolex piece Cuban Links, crops, an bracelets But that ain't shit, to leave a nigga naked, duct taped wit they bith In the basement Where the safe is? Big faces Cops raided, but ended up gettin they fkin squad car grenaded You want blazed shit? I spit the nitroglycerian That's smoother than a pair of new cinnamon Timberlands Get Benjamin's But be no P Diddy I'm from a city called Weed City See these Regime niggas be wit me Fk 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 ain't a playa, I juss mack-a-lot Pack the gat Tryin to snatch yo watch in the back of the lot Keep my sh*t 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.) That's 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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