Luyện nghe bài hát 1597

Hence forth, step my psychoanalysis
callouses upon my make me strain for my lines
out I it, squeezed the brain, it made some liquid
it in a cup and then 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 slingshot
aim, here I came, I'm the same
Back in '86, I'da tag my name upon your window
stained the a deep shade of residue
voices within the head make multiple
multiply Spawn, Slug a little
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 from the
now smell the burning fresh from the hell-bound
and come on down here, this mind path, I'm
mathematic staff with the rhyme craft
comin to capture, after-laughter
while I'm hangin from this rafter, I have to rip this
'cause the cramps in my stomach,
when I tamper with your amplifier, you die...

Why
The sky an eternally unfolding spectacle:
One puffs of cumulous clouds scatter across it
and next a billowing
perhaps 10 high looms over the horizon
the structure of the sky...
Why

Cause I can read an emcee front to back
from the cover to the classified - pacified
my mind my rhyme skills - I climb hills
and leap, foolish twitch with a single
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 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 fuck with kids
I've swarmed with the bees and
and even if your dj was Jesus, you could never fuck with kids

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

Stress, Beyond, ANT, the

so you best be on your way before trouble...