Luyện nghe bài hát 1597

Hence forth, step within my
callouses my mind make me strain for my lines
out I ripped it, squeezed the brain, it made liquid
drained it in a cup and then I it
Atmosphere! The mic let me it
thoughts take flight so fit the Slug in your pipe and take a kid
it! I heat it like a tea pot - steam hot
upon the roof, a marble with the verbal slingshot
aim, here I came, I'm the same
Back in '86, I'da tag my name upon window pane
stained the mind: a deep of residue
voices within the head make choices
multiply Spawn, a little buzz
and Atmosphere the scuds, here 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 meltdown from the outer-shell
now smell the burning fresh from the hell-bound
and come on here, this mind path, I'm half-
mathematic staff with the rhyme craft
to capture, your after-laughter
while I'm hangin from this rafter, I to rip this rapture
'cause the cramps in my stomach,
when I with your amplifier, damn you die...

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

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

Yea muthafucka! you who you fuckin 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
live, for only a second
then they
oblivion's, what you've in
your reps tooken, should been lookin
I'm sick of you bitch-ass crews
you tried what's not your but 'cha couldn't
take mine, your 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 each fuckin
its time, then 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 best be on your way there's trouble...