Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotine (Swordz)

Allow me to demonstrate the skill of
The technique of shadowboxing

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

Poisonous paragraphs, ya phonograph
In half, it be the Deck on the warpath
class leavin mics with a cast
Causin ruckus the aftermath when guns blast
Run fast, here the verbal assaulta
Rhymes wild like a child in a walker
I scored from the inner slums
And my are razor sharp I sliced the mic from the cord
First they criticize, but now they have
paralyzed with hits that I devise
Now I testify, the is i, rebel ins
Ya highness, to electrify
With voltage of an eel, truth that I
the amateurs who screamed to keep it real
Caesar black hoodied up and fatigues
Part minor leagues receive third degrees
Attack like a wolf pack, I pull back
Then guard you, and bust through like a

Yo, you carat gold slum computer wizard
Tappin inside my rap vein causes
Do I the kills for ice trife like botta digits
Gorillas injected with of eighty midgets
The spins ruins, rap exotic blends
Let my peeps in, niggaz gaspin swallowin
What a dosage, you in rap
explosives my post-its hypnotize with hypnosis
I sell goods, my clan is on the run like natural born killers
Record-breaking the album
Now access the jig who has bombs and launchers
Float like dope killer is what I sponsor
Ya entrepreneur, pens and gear Shakespeare
When I fuck I grab hair, drawers as souvenirs
Fuck yeah, my crew down beers
My career is based on guns, throwin in wheelchairs
Etcetera, any lame ass competitor
Who try to front, get broken and passed like
Whatever hot hardheads get like mirrors
Beretta shots your goose, scatter ya feathers
Say never poetry chumps crumbs deal graphic
Blew my overseas in mansions
If rap was crack, fully packed I be cats
Tax the of the rap drug traffickin
niggaz get slapped in manhattan
For rappin, big steps off laffin

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

Sit back relax, fake niggaz don't get
Watch me massage ya brain with slang king
Projects filled with young men cause
Who is that? dollar chains and techs
Focus, the brokest niggaz of life
These mics is like cocaine sun, check the suicidal shit
Exchange mad taste the sweepstakes
Keepin up on fakes outta for cakes
No doubt, plus amount, we making dough off of
Puttin on the land and allah, it's like that
Pull ya shoes up black, matta of fact just
Tie up, ya nike's and tight hats
Corners, stay surrounded with
Whattup dread? feds you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, to jail niggaz with charges
Unify in the guard with la
My clan done ran japan to Atlanta, with stamina
and gamblers, and gram handlers
Tical the isle, so god, let's get steamed
Infrared guard yo' beem, so nuff respect
Rude you bet, keep it movin par shallah
Pro black tar
the fly shit and stay shinin and
The rza pours more beats than cristal's wine
Concrete raps go to
With 50 niggaz on the other side of the map
it's all good and all done what, we want some
Mike Tyson of rap shit, pullin 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
Verbally I catch bodies with shotties
emcees, I keep em trained like potties
I facts, my sword is an axe
To split backs invisible, like fiend tracks
the limit, niggaz are timid, and nobody knows
How we move wolfs in sheep clothes
Producin data, microchips or
and off air, the land of the lost
Notorious henchman the north
Strikin niggaz where the Mason-Dixon line