Luyện nghe bài hát Lyrical Murderers

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

nothin' without focus
Woo, Beach
(Lay seats back)
New
(Turn your up)

We we, we lyrical
(Detroit)
to the Slaughterhouse
(What you 'bout?)
Where we bring them llamas out, bloaw

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

Lyrical murderer, Rakim
I'm a sniper shootin' my way into your top 10
at your head if I ain't next to Eminem
Then I bust in your face like I'm fuckin' Kim

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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