Luyện nghe bài hát Make 'em Pay

First and foremost, some are sweet like fructose
When I cock back lyrics, y'all punks best be ghost
I be the seven, twenty-one, eighteen,
The one, I'm almost doper than anyone
Straight out the late of Bed-Stuy
Steppin' up, put your weapons up, I make heads fly
You're artificial, saccarhin
crazy fake, it's more than skills you be lackin' in
Concepts you bite, 'cause your ain't tight
Tryin' to be somethin' you're not, like pullin' a knife at a
I'm troopin' on air, like flight number 1-0-6,
And all up in your fuckin' mix
You get me upset, and I got you
'Cause my in your city tonight, a'ight?
We got seventeen of us, plus two million Indians
That makes nineteen mil, lightin' up, like Wild Bill
I be the father, plus the ill kid, with drama
My karma, creates the teflon to your body armor
And make sure you the shit, before you walk to me, or talk to me
Steppin' to me improperly, you just may the weaponry
My is tearin' tracks out the frame
You know my name, I rule all game
I'm universal, on all planes, what's claim?

Yo, I be your highness, in slickness, you chumps bear
tropper, verbal nigga, with the fitness
Drop you for your spot with the blazer, then I ya
precise, like Benihanas, when I come to bring the dramas
Styles so swift, that you peep the God
As your lyrics get buried, six deep, in my backyard,
I laugh hard, your mental, I run through mazes
Dark stages of terror, to your dressing room mirror
Your whole error gets crushed, your whole gets bumrushed
Too dumb punks want to enter this rap scene
Kickin' Bobo, but need to be slapped clean
oblivion; the true champion always rises
I surprises to the chief, plus their advisers
Size me up, and you find nothing's larger
Catch more on your dome, than a deranged fuckin' barber
So what, you some dough, you best keep on scramblin'
All your vanity, is instantly crushed, I start handlin'
Demandin' that you pay, for weak rhyme display
Coast to coast, I break the fakes

I see as the black Rap Messiah
Colossal, spreadin' my through electrical wires
Spit fire through speech, so I can reach and every
Tom, Dick, and Jerry, slippin' petroleum jelly
Too busy in the limelight, can't tight
I got divine right to bring y'all to
ain't right, to be an MC, you gotta thug
Or to thug you gotta be an MC, this is bugged
Show love but few; deal crew and crew only
And universal, like Sony
pounds and fake hugs is usually avoided
Give a like Pizza Hut, I got to stay Noyd-ed
that same nigga you trust, could be that same cat
Behind gat that bust, quiet ya, with the silencer
Keep it hush, to dust, then dust to ashes
Nowadays it's who pull out the fastest, imagine
Rap shit this gat shit, or the phony cat
In black, talkin' 'bout how his Mac spit
But this year, Starr got changes bein' made
No wack shit played, no fake macks gettin' paid
No Versace MC's, with a mouth of Mo'
Soundin' a ho, spittin' that old-fashioned show flow
I bombshell that Chanel rap, through a Maxwell
Ever young Krumb, was taught to rap well
Goin' deep, process of thought, my eyes closes
Awaken with interpretive and sandals, like Moses
Travellin' high sands and lands, for the answers
Ignorance is spreadin' the streets, like it was cancer
Too many drinkin' not thinkin', behind that trigger
A escalate the murder rate, for us niggaz
It's like, microphone roulette, 'cause MC's is gettin' wet
Over someone else's gangsta rep