Luyện nghe bài hát 1597

Hence forth, within my psychoanalysis
callouses upon my mind me strain for my lines
out I ripped it, squeezed the brain, it made some
it in a cup and then I sipped it
Atmosphere! The mic let me it
thoughts take flight so fit the Slug in your pipe and a puff kid
fuck it! I heat it a tea pot - steam hot
upon the roof, shoot a marble the verbal slingshot
aim, here I came, I'm the same
Back in '86, I'da tag my name your window pane
stained the mind: a deep of residue
within the head make choices multiple
multiply Spawn, Slug a little
and Atmosphere the scuds, 'cause here the judge
blasted; so the kid a mic so we can paint this
image of the gifted-anxious, to the language
it's the noun meltdown from the
now smell the burning fresh from the hell-bound
and come on down here, this mind path, I'm
mathematic Atmospheric with the rhyme craft
comin to capture, after-laughter
while I'm hangin this rafter, I have to rip this rapture
'cause the in my stomach, dismantle
when I with your amplifier, damn you die...

Why
The sky an eternally unfolding spectacle:
One moment of cumulous clouds scatter across it
and next a thunderhead
perhaps 10 miles high looms the horizon
probing the of the sky...
Why

I can read an emcee from front to back
from the cover to the - I've pacified
my mind with my rhyme skills - I hills
and leap, foolish with a single bound
sending tingles down spine, designed to swing a pound
this ax-handle triple-inch-spike
from the tip of my mic distrubuting fuckin
shots to your head, now you're knee-deep, you need
as you trutch thru the sludge and the slugs and the shit
we swarm the bees and diseases
and even if your dj was Jesus, you could never fuck with kids
I've swarmed with the and diseases
and even if your dj was Jesus, you could fuck with these kids

Yea muthafucka! you know who you fuckin
you know what kind of ass whooping with this
whole crew could get some of this,
your wack ass fuck kids is what the is
roughnecks live, for only a
then they
oblivion's, what stepped in
your reps tooken, should have lookin
I'm of you bitch-ass crews when:
you tried take what's not your but couldn't
take mine, your fake rhymes - them you shouldn't
will it be now? another victory
yo who will it be now? it's Spawn that
complete, a true champ - that on my essence
amped shootin presence, each fuckin sentence
when its time, then it's to go
that's what I know, be rippin mics at show we flow
but who's got my back

Stress, Beyond, ANT, the

so you be on your way before there's trouble...