Luyện nghe bài hát 1597

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

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

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

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

Stress, Beyond, ANT, the

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