Luyện nghe bài hát Bring Da Pain

Basically, fuck with me

I came to bring the pain from the brain
Let's go inside my astral
Find out my mental's based on
Records hey, so I can monumental

Methods, I'm not the
But is decaf I stick 'em for the cream
Check it, just how deep can get
Deep as the abyss and is mad fish accept it

In your cross color, clothes you've crossed
Then got totally krossed out and Kross
Who da boss? Niggaz get to the side
And I'm the dark of the force

Of it's the Method Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
I be hectic and for the head piece protect it
Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, want the ruckus
Bustin' at me brush, now it

Styles, I gets wild
Method Man on shit, pullin' niggaz files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Miss Daisy
Out her fuckin' now I got Martin Swayze

Is it son, is it really real son?
Let me know real son, if it's really real
Something I could son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw deal son, if it's real

And when I was a lil'
(Stereo)
I listened to some
(Champion)
I wondered
(Wondered)
Will now I be the one?
(Tical! Hahaha)

Now you listen to de
(Gargon!)
And de gargon
And any man dat come me
(Test me)
Me gwanna lick out dem
(It's that)

Brothers want to hang with the Meth the rope
The only way you hang is by the nigga poke
Off the set comin' to your
Take it as a threat, yet it's a promise

Comin' from a vet on some old shit
Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I shit
And gonna get even worse word to God
It's the Wu comin' through sickin' niggaz for garments

on your left, southpaw 'em it's the Meth
Came to represent and my name in your chest
You can come test realize no contest
Son, I'm the gun that won old Wild West

Quick on the with my hands on the four
Nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes
Check it I think not when this hip-hops like proper
be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof

Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw, when you give it to me aiy, it to me raw
I've learned when you drink absolute it burns
to give my chest hairs a perm
I don't need a chemical blow to a hoe
All I is chemical bank to pay da mo'

What, basically that, Meth-Tical, style
Word up we be hazardous car crashing, horn me
Northern spicy brown mustard
We to stick you

Is it real son, is it real son?
Let me know it's real son, if it's real
Something I could feel son, it up and kill one
Want it raw deal son, if it's really

I'll fuckin', fuckin' cut your kneecaps off
And make you kneel in staircase piss
I'll fuckin', cut your off
And feed you but sleepin' pills
You
So the hoe
(So)
the hoe