Luyện nghe bài hát Blaze'in Microphones

Im sweet like cinnamon when Im spittin this venum,
giving rappers the blues denim,
when Im killin em, fillin em with syllable,
synonyms of spillin off my spiritual tongue,
then em like penicillin,
plus Im trying to reach the lost Gilligan,
God willin the spiritual healin, will the drug dealing,
and killing, because Im feeling Im ready to loose my mind,
so many be flying, and rydas be dying,
gotta a difference, for instance, the inmates in prisons make bad decisions,
for of wisdom, so I cut them open, and make incisions,
em with spiritualism, tell em about the one thats arisen,
how they can be free in they spirit, and have they forgiven,
by the one who on the cross,
'cause even when were into all their drinking and smoking,
he loved them even while 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 Vito Corleone,
we be things so act like you all know,
Boneyard be stopped now.

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

I doing this for 12 years, it aint easy yall,
to make hit records that are off the yall,
especially when bustas sippin on that haterade,
talkin behind back and trying to stop you on a day to day,
I dont make music for em playa anyway,
this is for killers and thugs, sippin on the Alize,
run a ways and essays down in prison,
why them, they the ones in 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 void in heart,
thats why I out of a need and not love of the art,
so listen, my mission is soul fishing,
so when the rapture happens, will be on the back of milk cartons missing.