Luyện nghe bài hát Crosshairs

The fat is in the fire, a fryer made of wire
Gettin' sick and of a friggin' liar
with some very soft mangoes
A full of skeletons and terry cloth Kangols

Flew the before you hit it let me warn you
She did a cool but don't get any on you
It's all a big to make y'all eat pig ham
When he's on the mic he's the trigger man, fig jam

Doom, not to be confused nobody
Especially, since the flows he was so nutty
Never too woozy to go study, crews got no
Like old Officer McGillicuddy

Watch six, he got a lot of more tricks
Lyrics, bricks, on sure got raw-nytics
It's a gift, don't get for kicks
With the same used to plot sick vicks with

Spotted at a flick, holdin' hands
The one on his swollen glands, a golden chance
That's why he kept holes in his pants
Rollin' in a old van is what he his stolen fans

Is that you true? Matched hat to shoe
Snafu, any brew, LaBatt's Blue
Black Jew like new, patch me through
No latch attached, skat shoo, twenty-two

Super, loaded dice nice
And overpriced, a arm and a leg, homey life or ice
Villain, nag a old hag
a bragger by his mic cord and leave him holding the bag

Come clean, a bunch of dumb mean cream
A keen drum buff, who fiends for more green stuff
of starvin' there be problems by the goo gobs
Aight, somebody's Lou Dobbs and them tonight

And on the next flight, moon bound
And makes it a point to stay from the goon pound
Got some peers, that's gone in the lost
Tears and cheers, in the crosshairs

Hey Mr.
that you were singing?
(It is the Hymn of Doom)

Well, I say
Nuttin' up a Robotic Hymn of Doom
Better than an amazing of jugs