Luyện nghe bài hát Go For Mine

[Buc
Yeah, from the top. I don't think they know. But as if you didnt know by now: L Brothers, Members, Buc Fifty, T to Be Fam. It never stops. There's too many ducks in the game now. its about time we evaporate all you motherfuckers for real. No doubt, we love to spit the real. We love to spit the real.

Fifty]
Blind fanatics, rhymes leave damage,
And foes to oppose, Cut
Didnt to erase me out the game.
6 1 9 battle veteran
In a I victimize.
Word spray, word play,
shit back to the days of K Day.
Ready rock, to test non-stop,
World domination, fuck blocks.
Pacific, scientific cause panic,
Spit lines terrific, no surprise, see I it.
You homosexual rap cats can that,
play for gays, fake thugs, fake ways.
Thoughts i generate and never to stop spittin,
Dont nothin but the music I'm ???.
L Brothers: ever-evolvin, fallin,
Into rhyme re-lapse, record tracks.
Mad Child blaze, real on top,
In memory of Rob-1 ya cant be stopped.

[Chorus - scratching the variations of a cut]
[Cut
get down, and go for mine,
1 2, and run the line.
get down, and run down the line.
get down... 1 2.

Swingin the axe. Bringing the pain while I'm the facts,
Keep climbin 'cause I'm while these others relax.
tracks from Cut Father dont bather half-steppin,
Mad and Buc Fifty: thats three deadly weapons.
Reppin the west, staplin the maple to my chest,
That sixteen bars between and stripes.
to go to malls and fight, now I stay up all night,
Thinking. out my future 'cause my family's tight.
We keep it thorough. We get inside head just like a neurosurgeon,
To my origin is discouragin,
No fade in Canadian hurricane keep flourishin.
Doubt Hows this: I put my money where my mouth is,
Joust North to South. You dont know anything about this.
startin a label, able to rock but unstable,
Terrifying talents of the unbalanced,
King of skull-crushing that welcomes any challenge.

[Buc
I can hand-cuff lightning, thunder in jail,
tornadoes in the palm of both hands when thy bail.
Full and ??? bomb, I am phenominal,
If I laid on train tracks I'd make that de-rail.
Hold still, I'm so ill i make sick,
Kill a ??? my head split wild with this.
Style until i well and done with it.
You a broke wrist rapper a fruit-flavoured packer.
Jimmy on the breath sugar footed crew that ya.
Gimme a reason to step, I'm booze and jack jackers,
mackers, out-act actors, stack up stature,
Textual factors, while I keep the wacker.