Luyện nghe bài hát Lyrical Murderers

This is the life, we
I ain't with the leanin' and
That ain't even as a option

You're nothin' without
Woo, Long
(Lay seats back)
New
(Turn speakers up)

We we, we murderers
(Detroit)
Welcome to the
(What you 'bout?)
Where we bring them verbal llamas out,

We, we, we lyrical
Man, we own streets and the freaks they love us
We ain't worried 'bout you
(Slaughterhouse)

murderer, blame Rakim
I'm a sniper shootin' my way into your top 10
Pistol at your head if I next to Eminem
Then I bust in your face like I'm Lil' Kim

Niggards, better pray to the lyrical
That I fall off like the umbilical cord before I fill up the
This is how a record
With the double edged triple sword, I'm iller than all

Dineri, see I'm a literary
niggaz with words, a cemetery linguist
Most rappers are gold
like they boyfriend's sodomy hole, they full of shit

Now you could walk through the shadow of death next to that street
Where the verbal business and 80's meet
them niggaz is backwards
I'm with my daughter in the front with the A.K. in the baby seat

We copycat killers, unleashin' venom
them lyrical murders and then we re-commit 'em
Lyrics be high quality, bitches be givin' me
My dick be deep in they like psychology

pennin' the best words that were ever said
The of Leatherhead and Everclear
You hide, we everywhere
Now, picture a grizzly standin' next to a teddy

We we, we lyrical
Welcome to the
(What you 'bout?)
Where we bring verbal llamas out, bloaw

We, we, we murderers
Man, we own these and the freaks they love us
We worried 'bout you fuckers
(Slaughterhouse)

Yeah, hello hip-hop, I am
You dyin'? Yeah, and I'm
A beast so at your wake I'll cry lion's
And that's no disrespect to the
If we ain't who you to hear
Somethin' wrong with your eyes and ears

I came in game screamin' Jers'
an MC in our lane to try and merge
Try and run with our
But I'm cool with bein' Eddie seein' my son on stage

Gun gon' blaze, act up in joint
And I'm a be Robinson and back up the point
run's over, run with us or get run over
I'm here to save this shit and I brung

This is murder
Me and track have a physical merger
When I stab it in the chest I'm a bit of a
So it bleeds to death, like the of a unfinished burger

Or sometimes I wrap my hand his throat
'Cause he think his kick is slick or his little snare is
Shoot the bass in the but sometimes I carry a rope
To hang the piano keys when they every note

I'm what no beat's to withstand
If you suffer from block and your label got big plans
to this fam, slide a little dough out that budget
And hire the instrumental

We we, we murderers
to the Slaughterhouse
(What you 'bout?)
Where we bring them verbal llamas out,

We, we, we lyrical
Man, we own these and the freaks they love us
We ain't worried 'bout you
(Slaughterhouse)