Luyện nghe bài hát Made In Black America

(Intro)
The Los Leakers,
That is an name
Whomever came up with that
Is a f...freaking
this bitch up!
This is another Los Leaker
You fucking face-having ass motherfucker!

(Verse)
Made in America, metaphor for a predator
to the Mediterranean, on my papers like a editor
I like a reservoir, dog
Rap Tarantino, off the like Django
let the chain glow, where they bang known
And niggas get shot like angles
In rap videos put up on
I'm where the buck 50 perennial all-star
Fruit that don't far from Islam
When rap is dead, I had the fluid that
I speak, you know I'm in the building like an
Enter Com, the most...
Intricate, with imminent
Domain, I'm feeling myself a sentiment-
-tal letter written to myself, aspirin' for greatness, and wealth
I'm cold, I'm hard to
I'm more than a hot song, or a hot
Ask my ex, I still live on Malcolm
My spirit and style a transformation
Make room, I don't reservations
You as a hotel, I stay presidential
Strange to be sinful and that Heaven sent you
To rearrange the mental, seen things we've been through
It's for a man to claim gentile, let me change the tempo
I be with broads that got shit together
if it ain't meant forever, still smoke the spliff together
The of the herbs, the presence of the words
Yeah you got a chest but I'm treasurin' your
You past, I'ma look behind you
you up and down to find you
Can see I was designed to, give you power and you
You fucking with me we can to
the better Black America

(Verse)
Made in America, takin' threats from a terrorist
We will meet but the media feed hysteria
And I be inferior, if I be in of ya
godly than gluttonous but my supper's superior
You know the difference 'tween the kids the lunch tickets
And the with the money, in the cafeteria
I break with with my brethren like a pizzeria
Spinnin' dough, you'll find red over cheese, be a-
-ware of your whereabouts, be feeble
I'm pissed off, is the onomatopoeia
You's just a little (twinkle) sure ain't me
Been a superstar since ma me
My president is
I wonder if Pac thought we was ready for that, or did we move too
I don't give a fuck, shit my grandpa
They that gun law or not, niggas still gon' pop up dead
Yeah, I'm the in this hip-hop matrix,
Exposin' shit
Used to dollars, now my sense ain't so common
across the whole nation screamin' Hiiipower
Never a racist, but I love horsepower, I'm hot
why I got the fans in the stands
Em fans googlin', enemies shakin'
Restorin' the balance, the malice
We kill you motherfuckin' with a mallet
This is Huey P with a QP
Bobby with a Seale, Fred on pills
In the Hamptons, now real, what's happenin'?
I'm just trying to teach my homies 'bout the tablets
Stop the war in over a bowl of cereal
Kill a instrumental book a flight on Expedia
To the nation's capital, Golf radical
Black lip pastor, tip the when he pass yah
to Black America