Luyện nghe bài hát Blaze'in Microphones

Im sweet cinnamon when Im spittin this lyrical venum,
giving the blues like denim,
when Im em, fillin em with these syllable,
synonyms of adrenaline spillin off my tongue,
then numbing em penicillin,
Im trying to reach the lost like Gilligan,
God willin the spiritual healin, will stop the dealing,
and killing, Im feeling like Im ready to loose my mind,
so many be flying, and rydas be dying,
gotta make a difference, for instance, the in prisons make bad decisions,
for lack of wisdom, so I cut them open, and incisions,
em with spiritualism, tell em about the one thats arisen,
how they can be free in spirit, and have they sins forgiven,
by the one who on the cross,
'cause even when were into all their drinking and smoking,
he loved even while they were lost,
so please to me, and stop dissin a G,
'cause I got they remedy on how can be free.

Blazing microphones, bringing nothing but that from the west coast,
Chase beats, Bone lyrics like Corleone,
we be running things so act you all know,
cant be stopped now.

Im not a Jehovah witness, but I for Jehovah,
back in the day, the 1st to slang and the baking soda,
but nowadays, I preachin the word,
like a drug dealers, slangin; holy on the curb,
eyes blurred off the holy ghost, smoke,
tripppin off my rims, crush eyes and my rope,
plus Im gifted with flows and is frozen,
I thought you all knew dawg, what, Im chosen,
highly favored, with the elite,
stand apart dawg, anointed, bring the word to the streets,
aint into the the fame or set you claimin,
tha game of namin, the name Im naming
is Jesus on the throne and reining, painting a for Gs bangin,
og how the Lord can save em, train em like a Raven, engraving,
the name of Jesus across they heart, its breakin,
Satan is waitin, anticipatin, and hatin,
but they trapped they's no escapin'

I been doing this for 12 years, it easy yall,
to make hit records are off the hizzy yall,
when them bustas sippin on that haterade,
talkin your back and trying to stop you on a day to day,
I dont make for em playa hatas anyway,
this is for killers and thugs, thats on the Alize,
run a ways and essays locked in prison,
why them, the ones in need of a physician,
and I know the perfect doctor
can heal you when you answer to the alter call,
he can, fill all the emptiness and in your heart,
thats why I rhyme out of a and not love of the art,
so listen, my only mission is fishing,
so when the rapture happens, will be on the back of milk cartons missing.