Luyện nghe bài hát Go Hard Pt2

[Intro - Royce
Bar 3 tramp. Yeah! Whoooooo!

1 - Royce]
Fuck is wrong you?
Go ahead and inform crew
That I can end your career in less a song or two
I'm a tyrant, I'm like an iris in my
You're as threatenin' as Miley Cyrus the hiney virus
Dead a verse, I got more bars Leavenworth
The present president call me "Tnediserp"
I shoot niggas with knives, stab niggas with
Kiss hands and babies
I the medic hurt
a producer too
Them faggots is fuck
I should rap over the Brinks backin' up noise
The city's in an uproar the hustler
I got it on lock like up north but much
These rap niggas sayin' that they rollin' on them
But the only rollin' they is rollin' on the pill
high
Speakin' of
We
You see us get paper before you see us fold
Hip hop
The of neo-soul
The only thing sing is my pistol when I'm takin' soul
You aspire to get a chain that's
I to get a chain of businesses
I retire
Gettin' at me ain't the business is
I kill the kitten if he
I make it easy
Before I Self Destruct, get some hoes pregnant like 50 & Lil' Weezy
I don't give a fuck shit
Got nothin' to say to but "suck dick"
I fuck yo' bitch and her back to you
like she been in labor dawg
And I'm done with she gon' need a cable all
My dream mistress is a like Nicki Minaj
And if the ass ain't real then I've the facade
The pistol, the pen, drinkin' with me, pick demise
The silencers screwed on now the in disguise
Now who the fuck goin' harder than
I take a on any nigga, no regard for tissue I go hard
So much than everybody
I Doe tag the toe of every body

We go
A
We go
Da da da da
He go
A
We go
Da da da da
We go
A
We go
Go hard, so
So hard, so

The best nigga in the
Yeah, you this
Da da da da da da da
The game never be the
Yeah, you know

2 - Kid Vishis]
Ignite
Make him swallow shells clog his windpipe
Make the doctor do the
Fightin' for the loot a riot
is Pay-Per-View
Rap niggas don't it they buyin' this
Blame it on the drugs Steve-O, you still a Jackass
I spit dope, my fans got a habit
If you can beat me on beats
The sore loser when I him out the booth then I beat his ass
What you call rappin', I trash
Every punch you call strong, I call jabs, so
I'm sicker a stripper, if you tip her give her fifties and twenties
Hit the lights she it's counterfeit money
My niggas get large
Push the good as Bobby Hurley 'fore the car crash
I get cash
cash, more cash
Don't wanna pay me, I'ma it out of your ass
Do you want fam
I say fam I fry a man
Feelin' man, I'll flight 'em in
Feelin' godly, what wanna battle me?
I use the as a cue
And shoot pool the galaxy
Few could challenge me who do
Three cash guns point the guard, I'm Steve
You a rap group, I'll through
The only time you see a gun is mine is pointin' at you
Skip the and the reverend
put 'em on a 747 and the destination's Heaven
For
Break my notebook and find more shit than the cops friskin' Rambo
'em fade to black, fit 'em for a blindfold
Told you I'm a pitbull (die slow)
I'll really hit your crib the semi
a nigga baby back and ribs
I call my bullets