Luyện nghe bài hát Homicide

[Intro: Sir Robert Bryson Hall, Logic &
Son, you know why you the alive?
Why,
Because you came out of my balls,

[Chorus:
rap
Bustin' like an addict a semi-automatic
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to back
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' alive
Even suicide, no fuck
Bobby villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his and even the baby
I'm feelin' I'm chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady with rabies

1: Logic]
I'm foamin' out the mouth, ain't takin' me out
Every single rapper in the industry, yeah they know what I'm
And I dare you to me
'Cause not a single one of you impress me
And maybe that's a little bit of an
But I'm full of
And I'm tired of all of this high "he's cool, he's not" rap shit
Can a single one of you fuckers even Shit
No, this ain't a diss to the game, a gas to the flame
Nowadays, everybody the same, shit's lame
a moth to the flame, I'm a realer man, a killer
Know you feelin' it, I sizzle when I'm spillin' it, I'm myself
Yeah, yeah, Boy, he be feelin' himself
Mass murder like this be good for my health
When I rap this, do I sound like shit?
Well, it don't matter, 'cause I'm killin' this shit
Yeah, I'm this shit
Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this
Bobby, how time you been killin' this shit?
another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit

[Chorus:
rap
Bustin' like an with a semi-automatic
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck
up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Even suicide, no fuck
feelin' villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for man and his lady and even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Shady

2: Logic]
There's nowhere to hide, we call shit genocide
Hit 'em with (Do-do-do) and they die
We gon' 'em crucified, we call this shit genocide
I got bitches, I got hoes, I got rare clothes
No, we fuckin' with that
Yeah, there's a and a place
But if you comin' with the illest of raps
yourself the greatest alive
Then you don't to do that
No, no, oh no, no, do not do that
You get smacked
You make Bobby attack
You gon' make Bobby Boy
You gon' make Boy snap (Bobby Boy!)

Logic]
rap
Bustin' an addict with a semi-automatic
Who done had it, and he ready for to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in we leavin' nobody alive
suicide, no fuck that
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin'
I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the
I'm feelin' I'm chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim

3: Eminem]
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like
Jig is up, you fuckers who didn't write
Are getting washed now, chika-chika-chika, like
Young Hova, I know hittas like
Gun toters that pull like crazy
Unloadin', leave you up in your Rover
Your body limp and slumps over
Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just
Hol' up, I said rover because now your is red
Like Red Rover, so you what I meant
But I rode over my instead
Makin' dog sounds 'cause I keep breakin' these bars down
I'll go slow for the
But when I go (Roof!) like the doberman
I still the (Roof!) would go over your head (Haha)
mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit
With so many lines you think I'm a free throw
it was about time for people to eat crow
You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be
I on my toes like the repo, a behemoth in sheep clothes
the East Coast to the West, I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T.
Who the best? I don't say a fuckin' thing though
MCs know
But you don't wanna hear me the facts
Your shit is ass like a tail
And you're trapped in your phone
I'ma chicken scratch, I'ma
I don't want to fuckin' listen to you your rap someone else wrote
to get beat up by the big kids
Used to let the big kids my big wheel
And I wouldn't do but just sit still
Now not a big deal
I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six
Big bills like a
A caterpillar's comin' to get the
I'm for the smoke 'cause you motherfuckers are scatterin'
Batterin' everything and I've had it with the man
I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a
And I'm bringin' the bandana back in the fuckin' again
The and I'm thinkin' of bringin' the fuckin' fingerless gloves back
And not giving a singular fuck like rap
I sound a fuckin' millionaire
With the with a hair trigger
to bear hug your fuckin' terrier to "Ric Flair Drip"
And y'all hold a candle at a prayer vigil
When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air
I'm about to bare it, nah fuck it
I'm gonna go upside the with a Nantucket

The is the blood of my track that I'm attackin' it
What, Fuck that shit
I'm up, back with a
Man,

[Outro: Chris
what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin' to
Do all while ya panickin'
And you're lookin' and at mannequins
And I'm to Fanagans
Trying to get up a against
All of the
of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana
You're in a
I'm in a and a Janet
I'm in a cabana chantin' all stand up banter
While you got the stamina, you're lackin' the stamina
You're lackin' the stamina while divorcin' Harrison Ford
And I'm in a Porsche on the floor
I'm world tourin'
You usin' way too many napkins,
Lapkins and
You using ChapStick and napkins I'm bapkin'
Flappin' around like a

Dammit, a can of p-