Luyện nghe bài hát Duel of The Iron Mic

Oh, mad one
We see trap
You can never escape your
Submit with honor to a duel my son
I

I see you an old style
I wondered where you'd it from
You know very well, it's too
Heh, by the Gods, you show me?
And what do you come
(Duel of the Mic)

You here, since you're so interested
(Duel of the Mic)
me
(In the the tiger strikes)
(What, Bring it)

Yo, picture and elevator shafts
Like these murderous rhymes tight genuine craft
the print, it's where veterans spark the letterings
Slow MCs is waitin' for the editin'

The liquid soluble made up the chemistry
A gaseous element, burned down your ministry
Herbal vapors and papers
Smokin' exo-dust, every square is plush

Fuck the screw-faced sessions
expression leaves impressions
Try to keep a shark nigga
Give crazy shouts son the outcome

Cut across the semi rhymes you floss
Shit is outdated, just like of Sterlings
Suede fronts, bell bottoms and Shearlings

I particular, I bang like vehicular homicides
I fall from Bed-Stuy
Where money don't on trees and there's thievin' MCs
Who to rake leaves

They can't breathe, blood splash, rushin' fast runnin' rivers
I be that in your liver

of the Iron Mic
It's that ready to strike

This is not a 85 affair, made
When the Gods get on to storms blew up
Wu's up, causin' the crowd to
Killer bees are stingin' somethin' while I

Science, heavily guarded by the culprit
Bombin' your barracks, with aerodynamic
darts by the doorway
Minds that's laced with doses

Damagin' launcher
Lunge at the offender then injure any contender
Testin' the murderous Masta lead to disaster
Dynamite explode through your barrier

the retina
Who can withstand the astonishin' punishin' to the sternum?
Shocked in the hip-hop
for a serum to cure 'em

Adults kill for drugs plus the bucks bust
Duckin' handcuffs, throats get cut dough rush
Out of town foes look but still pose
We move like pros through the streets we stroll

Bullet holes the windows in 1-6-oh
So control the avenues the dream that's sold
Building lobbies are for small-timers
Bitches caught in airports, in they vaginas

No peace, yo the police mad
You get bagged up, dependin' if you're the cut
Plus shorty's not a shorty no more, he's livin'
Regardless of the charges, to be the hardest individual

Critical thoughts, criminal
Blinded by illusion, findin' it

Duel of the Mic
It's that ready to strike
Duel of the Mic
that fifty-two ready to strike

At the height of their fame and
They on one another
Each struggling in vain for ultimate
In the passion and depth of struggle
The very art, that had raised
Through such Olympian heights was
techniques, vanished