Luyện nghe bài hát 1597

Hence forth, within my psychoanalysis
upon my mind make me strain for my lines
out I ripped it, squeezed the brain, it some liquid
drained it in a cup and I sipped it
Atmosphere! The mic let me it
thoughts take so fit the Slug in your pipe and take a puff kid
fuck it! I heat it like a tea pot - hot
upon the roof, shoot a marble with the verbal
aim, here I came, I'm the same
Back in '86, I'da tag my name upon your window
stained the mind: a deep shade of
voices the head make choices multiple
multiply Spawn, Slug a buzz
and Atmosphere the scuds, 'cause here come the
so pass the kid a mic so we can paint this
image of the gifted-anxious, to the language
it's the noun meltdown the outer-shell
now smell the burning flesh from the hell-bound
and come on down here, this path, I'm half-
mathematic Atmospheric with the rhyme craft
comin to capture, your
I'm hangin from 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 presents an eternally spectacle:
One moment puffs of cumulous scatter across it
and a billowing thunderhead
perhaps 10 miles high over the horizon
the structure of the sky...
Why

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

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

Stress, Beyond, ANT, the

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