Luyện nghe bài hát Duel of The Iron Mic

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

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

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

Yo, picture bloodbaths and elevator
Like these rhymes tight from genuine craft
Check the print, it's where spark the letterings
Slow moving MCs is for the editin'

The liquid that made up the chemistry
A element, that burned down your ministry
vapors and biblical papers
Smokin' exo-dust, every yard is plush

Fuck the screw-faced sessions
Facial expression impressions
Try to keep a shark nigga
Give crazy shouts son here's the

Cut across the semi rhymes you floss
is outdated, just like neckloads of Sterlings
Suede fronts, bell and tri-colored Shearlings

I ain't particular, I like vehicular homicides
Until I fall from
Where money don't grown on trees and there's MCs
Who cutthroat to rake

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

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

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

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

Damagin' lyrical
Lunge at the youthful then injure any contender
Testin' the Masta could lead to disaster
thoughts explode through your barrier

Rips the
Who can withstand the astonishin' punishin' stings to the
Shocked in the livestock
Seekin' for a to cure 'em

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

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

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

Critical thoughts, criminal
Blinded by illusion, it confusin'

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

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