Luyện nghe bài hát Bring Da Pain

Basically, can't fuck me

I came to the pain hardcore from the brain
Let's go inside my plane
Find out my based on instrumental
hey, so I can write monumental

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

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

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

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

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

And I was a lil' stereo
(Stereo)
I to some champion
(Champion)
I wondered
(Wondered)
Will now I be the numba
(Tical! Hahaha)

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

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

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

Movin' on your left, 'em it's the Meth
Came to and carve my name in your chest
You can come realize you're no contest
Son, I'm the gun that won that old West

Quick on the draw with my on the four
Nine three with the rugged rhymes galore
Check it 'cause I think not when hip-hops like proper
Rhymes be the proof 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 straight it
Enough to give my chest a perm
I don't a chemical blow to pull a hoe
All I need is bank to pay da mo'

What, that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style
up we be hazardous car crashing, horn passing me
Northern spicy brown hoes
We to stick you

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

I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your off
And make you in some staircase piss
I'll fuckin', cut eyelids off
And you nuthin' but sleepin' pills
You
So the hoe
(So)
the hoe