Luyện nghe bài hát Bring The Pain

Basically, fuck with me

I came to the pain hardcore from the brain
Let's go inside my astral
Find out my based on instrumental
Records hey so I can write
Methods, I'm not the
But niggas is decaf I stick 'em for the
Check it just how can shit get
Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish it
In your Cross clothes you've crossed over
Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kross
Who the Niggas get tossed to the side
And I'm the side of the Force
Of course the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
I be hectic, and coming for the piece protect it
it, two tears in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus
Bustin' at me bruh, now it
Styles, I gets
Method Man on some shit, niggas files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Miss Daisy
Out her fuckin' mind now I got I'm Swayze

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 really real

And I was a lil' stereo (Stereo)
I listened to champion (Champion)
I always (Wondered)
Will now I be the one (Tical hahaha)
Now you to the Gargon (Gargon)
And the summary
And any man dat test me (Test me)
Me gwanna out them brains (It's like that)

Brothers want to hang the Meth bring the rope
The only way you hang is by the neck poke
Off the set comin' to projects
Take it as a threat, better yet a promise
Comin' from a vet on some old shit
Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb
And it's get even worse word to God
It's the Wu comin' through sickin niggaz for garments
Movin' on left, southpaw em it's the Meth
Came to represent and carve my name in your
You can come test you're no contest
Son I'm the gun won that old Wild West
Quick on the draw my hands on the four
Nine eleven with the rugged rhymes galore
Check it cause I not when this hip-hops like proper
be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof
Huh vodka, no OJ, no
When you give it to me aiy, it to me raw
I've learned when you Absolut straight it burns
Enough to give my chest hairs a
I need a chemical blow to pull a hoe
All I need is Bank to pay da mo'

What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four
Word up we be
spicy brown mustard hoes
We have to you

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