Luyện nghe bài hát Duel of the Iron Mic

{Oh, mad one, we see trap
You can never escape, your
Submit honor to a duel, with my son
I
I see you using an old
I wondered where you had it from
I wondered too
You know well, it's yours too
Yo God, a duel, it's a duel
Heh, by the Gods, will you me?
Buck buck buck buck buck
And where do you come
Duel of the Mic
You come here, since so interested
of the Iron Mic
me
In the moonlight I will strike
What, Bring it}

Yo
Picture bloodbaths and shafts
Like these rhymes tight from genuine craft
Check the print, where veterans spark the letterings
Slow moving is waitin' for the editin'

The liquid soluble that made up the
A gaseous element, burned down your ministry
vapors, and Biblical papers
Smokin' Exodus, every square yard is

the screw-faced photo sessions facial expression
Leaves impressions, try to keep a sharp nigga
Give shouts, "Son, here's the outcome"
Cut the semi-gloss rhymes you floss

Shit is outdated, like neckloads of Sterlings
Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and Shearlings
I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular
On July 4th in

Where money grown on trees and there's thievin' MC's
Who cut-throat to rake
They can't breathe, splash, rushin' fast
Like rivers, I be that whiskey in your liver

of the Iron Mic
(You're good)
the fifty-two fatal strikes!
(You tell him to take the same technique)

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

Science, that's heavily guarded by the
Bombin' your barracks, with
Swordplay, poison by the doorway
Minds laced with explosive doses

Damagin' lyrical
at the youthful offender then injure
Any contender, the murderous Master
lead to disaster, dynamite thoughts

Explode through your barrier, rips the
Who can withstand the astonishing,
Stings to the sternum, in the hip-hop livestock
for a serum, to cure 'em

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

Bullet holes the windows in one-six-o
So control the that's the dream that's sold
lobbies are graveyards for small-timers
Bitches caught in airports, keys in they

No peace, yo the police mad
You get bagged up, if you're passin' the cut
Shorty's not a Shorty no more, he's livin' heartless
Regardless of the
to be the hardest individual
Critical thoughts, criminal
Blinded by illusion, findin' it

Duel of the iron
(The master, he be dreaming, heh)
It's that fifty-two strikes
(Well, if he is dreaming)

Duel of the iron
(Then he be asleep)
It's that fifty-two strikes, nuh
(And if he is asleep)
(Then I will him up)

{At the of their fame and glory, they turned on one another
Each struggling in for ultimate supremacy
In the passion and of their struggle
very art, that had raised them
Through rapiant heights was lost
Their techniques,