Luyện nghe bài hát DNA

Feel the music son, we got you like a beat
When I snare, yo, guard your grill
Press kick, you your feet, you cant compete
I got my parked on every street

Im nigga, son of sun, come close and feel the heat
I am the streets, the white lines separate me from me
You hydroplane in false gods name and crash into me
Sign and tree, mountainside, into the sea

They thought they stole you from my arms carried you to me
the key, DNA encoded in a beat
White rocks in a vial, nigga, got nuthin on me
Im free, ask these editors at MTV

Far as they know publishing some new school poetry
Let it be cause that will do to turn the key
Doorways other worlds, the truth shall set you free
You are me, I am you, but Im he

of a bastard flock that grazes in the streets
Feel the beat nod your lean back, yo, touch your feet
Let me see you pop that right there girl in your seat
Feel the heat, count page amongst your whitest sheets
in my every word slide under countless sheep

Hail Mary, of God
Got the whole host of angels in my iPod
learned to raise their voices when I lowered my rod
Staff of Moses, Pharaoh knows it, son, my is my bond

my heart with mind, speak my nature, divine
Callin' shit existence back in '79
With the future in my pocket tightly like a 9
Keep my on the trigger waiting for the right time

Ancient niggas align, path of design
Blood of cause Saturns rings dont need no diamonds to shine
Yes, the reason for the season, divine
Coded Language of the with my fist in the sky

Keep head up, we represent the real, my nigga dead up
of the dead, history bled, this nigga fed up
Led us to despair, some into and they wont let up
Until got us worshiping them false gods instead of the realness
God of the streets, my niggas this

We nod our heads and worship beats
Go ahead and
Its the love that makes the complete
And itd displayed through the way the bass line marries the

Mary, Mother of God
Got the whole host of angels in my iPod
Niggas learned to raise their when I lowered my rod
Staff of Moses, Pharaoh it, son, my word is my bond

Tune my with mind, speak my nature, divine
Callin' shit existence back in '79
With the future in my pocket tightly gripped a 9
my finger on the trigger waiting for the right time

Ancient niggas align, path of design
of kings cause Saturns rings dont need no diamonds to shine
Yes, the reason for the season, ornamented
language of the mystics with my fist in the sky

Keep your up