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 soft
A closet full of skeletons and cloth Kangols

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

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

Watch your six, he got a lot of more
Lyrics, bricks, on sticks sure got
It's a gift, don't get for kicks
With the slick used to plot sick vicks with

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

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

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

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

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

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

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