Luyện nghe bài hát Lyrical Murderers

This is the life, we
I with the leanin' and rockin'
That even seen as a option

You're without focus
Woo, Long
(Lay your back)
New
(Turn your up)

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

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

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

Niggards, better pray to the Lord
That I fall off the umbilical cord before I fill up the morgue
is how a killer record
With the double edged syllable sword, I'm iller than all

Dineri, see I'm a literary
Bury niggaz words, a cemetery linguist
rappers are comedy gold
They like they boyfriend's sodomy hole, they full of

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

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

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

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

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

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

I in this game screamin' Jers'
Ain't an MC in our to try and merge
Try and run our wave
But I'm cool with bein' Eddie Levert my son on stage

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

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

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

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

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

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