Luyện nghe bài hát Have 2

1]
These rappers saying lines I quote
They faker than letter that Solar be claiming that Guru wrote
I wanna slit they throat and go berserk and kids
I'm underground and don't give a who Rebecca Black is
Distributing these knuckles straight across your glass
I will Manute Bol a nigga, I put 'em in a casket
The spitter that's sinister as a witches cackling
H1N1 off my but there is no vaccine
I'm brash and nocturnal and graphic like a journal
So I don't rhyme till I'm turning purple to merk and serve you
I get more than my ese homie Stermal
I clear you out early like a Jonas Brother's curfew
You try to sue the
Couldn't be saved by tubes
Jesus wearing a T-Shirt saying "What Would Chino Do?"
I'm here to your doom
XL is a
You will never see me coming like a condom
The true villain, never killing
My haters are big fans, should be spinning on my bedroom ceiling
But Chino got for every coward that's hated him
And a trigger finger twitching like Mohammad Ali's brainstem

I don't wanna hurt you but I if I have too {X4}

2]
It's uncanny how many are to end me
I deserve Emmys and and plenty of pennies
And pretty Chevy's on hydrolics
Verses they're on anabolics
Making rappers cry like babies they got the colic
These artists be me bad
If imitation is the form of flattery
my raps should be as flat as Paris Hilton's ass
I'm trying to bring skin back
But El Debarge keep his path out of rehab
The Puerto spic been sicker than Auswitch
Since Noah's Ark was a pile of woodchips
You think fabulous till the savages double barrellers
Outside house and it's singing like Christmas carollers
I spit till I'm
I'm sicker than
When Chris Stokes, nah erase that shit it's fucking
You softer than Avril Levine shooting shrapnal at the
The rapper that'll shatter your bladder matter and spleen
It's an animal thing and on your I will dance on
Your CD will not go double tampoon

3]
Yo
They try to mimic my energy, it meant to be
Consider me Hannibal giving out food recipes
Your ass kicked and path to the casket choosed
Bastards rubbing me the wrong way like a bad
Ricanstruction an album it's a murder exhibition
Sit back and the skeleton key into the ignition
hands in a senance realize that the table's risen
In an industry that's frail and fucking calcium
Thank Heaven that the visionary Pen has back arisen
Fucking beat that I'm given in missionary position
My rhymes not written for fame or to get rich
But therapeutically put my childhood in the electric and hit the switch