Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotine (Swordz)

Allow me to demonstrate the skill of
The special technique of

Poisonous, (word word word)
I should slap all y'all niggaz for in my fuckin face with that shit
Alright cool yeah, go man

Poisonous paragraphs, ya phonograph
In half, it be the Inspectah on the warpath
First class leavin mics with a
Causin ruckus the aftermath when guns blast
Run fast, comes the verbal assaulta
Rhymes runnin like a child in a walker
I scored from the slums abroad
And my thoughts are razor sharp I sliced the mic the cord
First they criticize, but now they have
Mentally paralyzed hits that I devise
Now I testify, the is i, rebel ins
Ya highness, blessed to
With of an eel, truth that I reveal'll
Crush the amateurs who screamed to it real
black down hoodied up and fatigues
Part time minor leagues third degrees
Attack like a wolf pack, I pull back
Then guard you, and bust through a fullback

Yo, you fourteen carat gold slum computer
Tappin inside my rap vein causes
Do I like the kills for ice trife like botta
Gorillas injected with strength of midgets
The earth ruins, rap exotic blends
Let my peeps in, gaspin swallowin aspirins
a dosage, you overdosed in rap
High explosives my post-its with hypnosis
I sell goods, my whole clan is on the run like natural killers
Record-breaking the thriller
Now access the jig who has bombs and rocket
Float dope killer bees is what I sponsor
Ya entrepreneur, pens and gear like
I fuck I grab hair, collect drawers as souvenirs
Fuck yeah, my crew German beers
My career is on guns, throwin cats in wheelchairs
Etcetera, damage any lame ass
Who try to front, get broken and like leathers
Whatever hot hardheads get shattered like
Beretta splatter your goose, scatter ya feathers
Say never poetry chumps crumbs deal graphic
Blew my family in mansions
If rap was crack, fully packed I be tour
Tax the kingpin of the rap drug
Village get slapped in manhattan
For rappin, big ghost off laffin

(Were you just using the wu-tang school method me?
I've learned so many styles, me)

Sit back relax, niggaz don't get turns
Watch me massage ya brain slang that's king
Projects filled with young men cause
Who is that? thousand dollar chains and
Focus, the brokest niggaz of shit
These is like cocaine sun, check the suicidal hype shit
mad blunts taste the sweepstakes
Keepin up on fakes outta for cakes
No doubt, plus nobody amount, we making off of
Puttin fifty on the land and allah, it's that
ya shoes up black, matta of fact just adapt
Tie up, ya nike's and tight hats
Corners, stay surrounded with
Whattup dread? caught you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, peace to jail with charges
layin in the guard with la
My done ran from japan to Atlanta, with stamina
Clingers and gamblers, and handlers
Tical like the isle, so god, get steamed
Infrared guard yo' beem, so nuff respect
Rude you bet, keep it movin par shallah
Pro like tar
the fly shit and stay shinin and
The rza pours more beats than fine wine
Concrete go to black
50 other niggaz on the other side of the map
Knew it's all good and all what, we want some
Mike Tyson of this rap shit, out macs for fun

The nigga don't get mad, I got mad of my own
And it's when my hands grip the chrome microphone
I catch bodies with cordless shotties
Intriguin emcees, I keep em trained potties
I facts, my sword is an axe
To split invisible, like dope fiend tracks
Sky's the limit, niggaz are timid, and nobody
How we move like wolfs in sheep
data, microchips or software
Undaground and off air, the of the lost
Notorious henchman from the
Strikin niggaz where the Mason-Dixon crossed