Luyện nghe bài hát Make'em Feel It

This is another jam from
Extra-special the master, so let's jet
Speakers are pumpin, so it's hard to
But you need more than the cops to save lives
Fasten your seatbelt, put on your gear
yourself for the single, Foxxx is here
Lyrically fit like a mack man, comes
With a guard and a style that flip
I step smooth, I never stride
Keepin my man Kut on the right side
You got up to get down and got
to get paid with some old bullshit Saran (W)rap
I put the on, touched a nerve
And now you're outside, a bum on the curb
Used to be the mack of the microphone
But you get nothin now cause (Freddie's home)
I don't care if you're worldwide and pride
Won't you to play the side
you're just a mere mortal, nothin extraordinary
Beats are under-average and rhymes are ordinary
I'm pros on their third LP's
like a bunch of schoolyard MC's
Man, I wish I'd catch a rapper tryin to my style
Tellin people that we're cool with a grin and a
I his face, give him a smack
Then I him on his head and cut 'Foxxx' in his back
I tell him all the real bad things that I heard
I'ma squash him like a bird
And make em it

( *DJ Kut cuts up* )
(Can you it)

I make a rapper feel the pain, rap's my
To kick a rhyme nothin, the key's to get paid
Before I made records you played me to the
But now you bought my jam and you run it to
Mellow was smooth, remember the name
I to wax chump rappers like it was a game
The rhymes I've accumulated and lyrically created
I counted and amounted I ever stated
Play fiddle to rappers, I hate it
But I it and made it to the top
Now I'm a lot of people's idol, it don't go to my
Suckers be me, they rather be dead
Lotta people do what I do, say I said
But then you always hear that people be like Fred
I'm nice with mines and I'm much sweeter
any Tom, Dick, Bob, Harry or Peter
Cause I'm a general generatin rhymes at a 1000
Simultaneously out knots
I'm a rappin with class, I whip up pantsless ass
Take his cash and sit back and
And make him it

( *DJ Kut cuts up* )
(Can you it)

Now I'm a choir, takin rap higher
Ex-friends lost minds, saw me on the flyer
And was buggin their eyes like neighborhood
to convince themselves, "That ain't Fred"
But my sound made you get down, you recognize my
to smile and gave me a pound
When I broke it down nobody wanna give me mines
I came through like a champ kickin
Male and female, as well
Know they just can't front cause their rhyme'll
rappers fall off but keep on tryin
But they'll never survive cause they're slowly
has a posse and gases em up
Gets braincells hype but that ain't enough
Cause when it's rough and the pressure's too much to
That's when you notice - the ain't there
Then you're all with your microphone
Freddie Foxxx is in the vicinity scopin your
your moms and your pops and your kids as prisoners
And become my brand new listeners
Freeze, sucker, I'd warned ya
The triple x got to on ya
Now you're on the sidewalk, I dare you to talk
If you can kick the right rhyme you can get up and
But if you don't, be a pitiful sight
I'll take your heart and take mic
And make you it

( *DJ Kut cuts up* )
(Can you it)

I make you it

Kut
(Can you it)

(Can you it)
Make em it
(Can you it)