Luyện nghe bài hát Crosshairs

The fat is in the fire, a fryer made of chicken
Gettin' and tired of a friggin' liar
Pelican with some very mangoes
A closet full of skeletons and terry cloth

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

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

Watch your six, he got a lot of more
Lyrics, bricks, on sticks got raw-nytics
It's a gift, don't get shot for
the same slick used to plot sick vicks with

Spotted at a chick flick, hands
The other one on his swollen glands, a chance
That's why he kept them in his pants
in a old van is what he told his stolen fans

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

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

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

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

Hey Mr.
What's that you singing?
(It is the Hymn of Doom)

Well, I say
Nuttin' livens up a Hymn of Doom
Better than an amazing pair of