Luyện nghe bài hát Doomsday

I to cop a lot
But copped no drop
mics like pony tails, tight, and bob a lot
Stop and stick
through and dig the sound
Of the fly brown six-o sicko psycho who throws his around
to go three-plat
Came to rap
It's a plot of a b-boy strapped
cats get kidnapped
Then release a statement to the - let the rest know who did that
Fist terrorists claim responsibility
Broken name usually said in hostility
Um what is MF? You
I'd like to take "Mens to the End" for two
"Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo!" That's a audio daily
Rappers need to fall off to save me the trouble, yo
Watch own back
in and go out alone, black
Stay in the zone H2O to Cognac
On Doomsday!
Ever since the womb 'til I'm back where my went
what my tomb will say
Right above my government,
Either unmarked or engraved, hey, who's to
I wrote one in B.C. D.C. O-section
If you don't believe me, go get bagged and check
Cell number 17, up under the top
I say this not to be mean, wish bad luck or pop
Pop the trunk on See-Cipher-Punk, him left scraped
God forbid, if ain't no escape, blame MF tape
"super-villain": a killer who love children
One who is well-skilled in destruction, as well as
Sidney Sheldon teaches the trife to be trifer
I'm trading science fiction my man the live lifer
A pied piper a rhyme, a dollar and a dime
Do his thing, ring around the white crime
Get out my face, 'bout my case, need toothpaste
mint, monkey-style nigga get dentadent
And dope still in they teens, shook niggas turn witness
Real mind their own business
That's the difference sissy-pissy rappers that's double-dutch
How come I the microphone double-clutch
C.O.'s make rounds, never 'ox found
On shakedown, lock-down, wet of Fox' Brown
On Doomsday!
since the womb 'til I'm back where my brother went
That's what my tomb say
above my government, Dumile
Either or engraved, hey, who's to say?

Every since the womb 'til I'm to the essence
Read it off the
Either engraved or unmarked grave, who's to
Pass the mic like "Pass the peas they used to say"
Some M-er F-ers like how Sally walk
I'll tell y'all fools it's cool how ladies from Cali talk
let her interfere with the Yeti ghetto slang
Nicknames off nipple and tip of metal fang
Known amongst for the bang-bang
Known amongst foes for flow no talking orangutangs
Only gin and
Guzzled out a tin can
Me and this mic is like yin and
Clang! Crime pay, listen, youth
It's like me up the line at the kissing booth
I her back to the truck, she was uncouth
Spittin' all out the sunroof, through her missing
But then she has a sexy voice, sound like Joyce
So I it up faster than a speeding knife
Strong enough to a wife
Able to drop math in the 48 keys of life
Cut the far as rap
Touch the mic, get the same thing a Arab do to you for stealing
the devil? He's on another level
It's a word! No, a name! MF the villain!