Thugged Out sh*t lyrics

[Intro: Memphis Bleek]
Geah
What?
Memph Bleek
Duro
We live
Thugged out
Marcy
Smoked out
Yeah
[?] [?]
Uh

[Verse 1: Memphis Bleek]
Yo, yo
I'm on now
Therefore your ready rock
Compare to this fishscale 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 blow weed
Chop deuces and hold rugers
Have a n*gga rocked up then knocked up
Plenty y'all wit his chest out gettin' stocked up
We trade war stories back on them streets
When we played the mess hall
n*ggas dead 'em on his eats
I'm a foul little n*gga, wild little n*gga
Dedicated to these streets a pump valve, lil n*gga
You hear about my whereabouts?
b*tches I don't care about
Money, I'm a man about
Drama, I'm a air it out
n*ggas hate Bleek 'cause I live right?
You'll love to see me broke frontin', wit no chips right?
[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]
Who wanna hear some more thugged out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out sh*t? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type sh*t? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear some more thugged out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out sh*t? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type sh*t? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out sh*t? (what)

[Verse 2: Memphis Bleek]
But this Bleek life my young n*ggas I tell ya
I went from a failure, holdin' paraphernalia
Weight scales, twelve-twelves, dimes and fishscale
Cooked up and bagged up
My life was f*cked up, but I looked at it this way
If I don't make it this way, then I'm a do it this way
Blaze my heat, while I'm after them nickels
f*ck six I chase nine f*cken zeros
Digits I got four of them, want five more of them
b*tches went on tour wit 'em
Flash bring more of 'em
I f*ck 'em, never call 'em, my dough must have spoiled 'em
n*gga blew raw wit them but now I'm ignoring them
This street life kept Bleek tight with heat right
On the ten-speed herbed up, n*gga word up
You saw me, but if not your man did
I know I pull gats on y'all for crack sh*t
Yeah uh-huh
[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]
Who wanna hear some more thugged out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out sh*t? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type sh*t? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear some more thugged out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out sh*t? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type sh*t? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out sh*t? (what)

[Verse 3: Memphis Bleek]
My n*ggas roll dice in the back park
We sip Bacardi dark wit sprite all night
Till the sky get bruised or thug n*gga lose
Pull out two-two's only catch two, hundred
Half the crowd skated with which you wanted
This n*gga got shaky and panic when you fronted
When he saw the black kron
I thought the n*gga wore a thong
The way he froze his arm
Dukes said "it's on"
He stripped to his drawers when he heard one raw
Took off half ass when the n*gga spit more
And we all spit game, you n*ggas heard pre-game
By Sauce, motherf*cker, for you lame motherf*ckers
I fall, I get back
To test my worth, I tell heads to hit that, it's raw? get rid of that
My workers take thirty off a bundle
Dodging the bikers and the D's when they rush the jungle
So we stash in the fences, sit low on the benches
Keep a small gun in case it's on in the trenches
Yo
[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]
Who wanna hear some more thugged out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out sh*t? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type sh*t? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear some more thugged out sh*t? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out sh*t? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type sh*t? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out sh*t? (what)

[Outro: Memphis Bleek]
We live
For the thug n*ggas, Marcy, what?
We out