Luyện nghe bài hát Make'em Feel It

This is another jam from
Extra-special from the master, so jet
Speakers are pumpin, so it's hard to
But you need more than the cops just to save
Fasten your seatbelt, put on your gear
Prepare yourself for the single, Foxxx is
fit like a mack man, comes equipped
With a guard and a that won't flip
I step smooth, I never stride
Keepin my man Kut Terror on the side
You got up to get and got slapped
to get paid with some old bullshit Saran (W)rap
I put the pressure on, a nerve
And now outside, just 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
allow you to play the side
Cause you're just a mere mortal, extraordinary
are under-average and your rhymes are ordinary
I'm hearin on their third LP's
Soundin like a bunch of schoolyard
Man, I I'd catch a rapper tryin to play my style
Tellin people that we're cool with a grin and a
I mush his face, him a smack
Then I slam him on his head and cut in his back
When I him all the real bad things that I heard
squash him like a dead bird
And make em it

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

I make a rapper feel the pain, my trade
To kick a rhyme ain't nothin, the key's to get
Before I made records you me to the left
But now you bought my jam and you run it to
Mellow rapper was smooth, remember the
I used to wax chump rappers it was a game
The rhymes that I've and lyrically created
I and amounted everyone I ever stated
Play second to rappers, I hate it
But I made it and it to the top
Now I'm a lot of people's idol, it go to my head
Suckers be me, they rather be dead
Lotta people do what I do, say I said
But then you always that people wanna be like Fred
I'm super nice mines and I'm much sweeter
Than any Tom, Dick, Bob, or Peter
I'm a general generatin rhymes at a 1000 watts
Simultaneously handin out
I'm a Foxxx rappin with class, I whip up ass
his cash and sit back and laugh
And make him it

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

Now I'm a one-man choir, rap higher
Ex-friends their minds, saw me on the flyer
And was their eyes like neighborhood baseheads
Tryin to themselves, "That ain't Fred"
But my made you get down, you recognize my style
Started to and gave me a pound
When I broke it down ain't wanna give me mines
I came like a champ kickin behinds
and female, rappers as well
Know they just can't cause their rhyme'll tell
Lotta rappers fall off but on tryin
But they'll never survive cause they're dyin
has a posse and gases em up
Gets their braincells but that ain't enough
when it's rough and the pressure's too much to bear
That's when you - the posse ain't there
Then all alone with your microphone
Foxxx is in the vicinity scopin your home
Take your moms and your and your kids as prisoners
And they become my brand new
Freeze, sucker, I'd warned ya
The x got to drop on ya
Now you're layin on the sidewalk, I you to talk
If you can kick the right you can get up and walk
But if you don't, you'll be a sight
I'll take heart and take your mic
And you feel it

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

I you feel it

Kut
(Can you it)

(Can you it)
em feel it
(Can you it)