Luyện nghe bài hát Make 'em Pay

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

Yo, I be your highness, in slickness, you bear witness
tropper, verbal nigga, with the fitness
Drop you for spot with the blazer, then I blast ya
Slice precise, like Benihanas, I come to bring the dramas
Styles so swift, that you can't the God
As your lyrics get buried, six deep, in my backyard,
I laugh hard, while your mental, I run mazes
Dark stages of terror, to your dressing room mirror
Your error gets crushed, your whole show gets bumrushed
Too dumb punks want to enter this rap scene
Willie Bobo, but need to be slapped clean
Into oblivion; the champion always rises
I surprises to the chief, plus their advisers
Size me up, and you find nothing's larger
Catch more wreck on your dome, than a fuckin' barber
So what, you made some dough, you best keep on
All your vanity, is instantly crushed, when I handlin'
Demandin' that you pay, for your rhyme display
to coast, I break the fakes everyday

I see myself as the Rap Messiah
Colossal, my gospel through electrical wires
Spit through speech, so I can reach each and every
Tom, Dick, and Jerry, slippin' like jelly
Too in the limelight, can't rhyme tight
I got divine to bring y'all to light
ain't right, to be an MC, you gotta thug
Or to thug you be an MC, this shit is bugged
Show love but deal with crew and crew only
And think universal, like
Phony pounds and fake is usually avoided
Give a fuck like Pizza Hut, I got to stay
'Cause that nigga you trust, could be that same cat
Behind gat that bust, quiet ya, with the silencer
Keep it hush, ashes to dust, then to ashes
Nowadays it's who out the fastest, imagine this
Rap shit without gat shit, or the phony cat
In black, talkin' 'bout how much his Mac
But this year, Gang Starr got changes made
No shit bein' played, no fake macks gettin' paid
No MC's, with a mouth full of Mo'
Soundin' like a ho, spittin' that show flow
I bombshell pastel Chanel rap, through a Maxwell
Ever young Krumb, was taught to rap well
Goin' deep, of thought, when my eyes closes
Awaken interpretive robe and sandals, like Moses
Travellin' high sands and lands, for the answers
Ignorance is spreadin' through the streets, it was cancer
Too many not thinkin', when behind that trigger
A escalate the murder rate, for us niggaz
like, microphone roulette, 'cause nowadays MC's is gettin' wet
Over else's fake gangsta rep