Luyện nghe bài hát Bring The Pain (alternative Mix)

Basically, can't with me

I came to bring the pain hardcore the brain
Let's go my astral plane
Find out my mental's on instrumental
Records hey so I can monumental
Methods, I'm not the
But niggas is decaf I 'em for the cream
Check it how deep can shit get
Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad accept it
In Cross Color clothes you've crossed over
Then got Krossed Out and Kris Kross
Who the boss? Niggas get to the side
And I'm the side of the Force
Of it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
I be hectic, and coming for the head protect it
Fuck it, two in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus
Bustin' at me bruh, now it
Styles, I gets
Method Man on some shit, pulling files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin' Miss
Out her mind now I got mine I'm Swayze

Is it real son, is it real son
Let me know it's real son, if 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 some (Champion)
I wondered (Wondered)
now I be the number one (Tical hahaha)
Now you to the Gargon (Gargon)
And the Gargon
And any man dat test me (Test me)
Me gwanna lick out them brains (It's that)

Brothers want to hang the Meth bring the rope
The only way you hang is by the nigga poke
Off the set comin' to projects
Take it as a threat, yet it's a promise
Comin' a vet on some old Vietnam 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 they
Movin' on your left, southpaw em it's the
Came to and carve my name in your chest
You can test realize you're no contest
Son I'm the gun that won that old Wild
Quick on the draw my hands on the four
three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore
Check it cause I think not when this like proper
Rhymes be the proof while I'm 90 proof
Huh vodka, no OJ, no
you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw
I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it
Enough to my chest hairs a perm
I don't a chemical blow to pull a hoe
All I is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'

What, basically that, Meth-Tical, style
up we be hazardous
Northern spicy brown mustard
We have to you

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

I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your off
And make you kneel in some piss

I'll fuckin', cut your off
And feed you nuthin' but pills

You
(So) So the hoe
the hoe

(Look at nigga, this motherfuckin')