Luyện nghe bài hát Make 'em Pay

First and foremost, some rappers are sweet like
When I cock these lyrics, y'all 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
Steppin' up, put your weapons up, I make heads fly
artificial, like saccarhin
You're crazy fake, it's more skills you be lackin' in
you bite, 'cause your identity ain't tight
Tryin' to be somethin' you're not, like pullin' a knife at a
I'm troopin' on night air, like number 1-0-6,
And gettin' all up in your mix
You get me upset, and I got you
'Cause my in your city tonight, a'ight?
We got seventeen million of us, plus two Indians
That makes nineteen mil, lightin' shit up, like Wild
I be the supreme father, the ill kid, with drama
My karma, creates the teflon to pierce your body
And make sure you check the shit, before you walk to me, or to me
Steppin' to me improperly, you just may catch the
My specialty is tearin' tracks out the
You know my fuckin' name, I rule all
I'm universal, on all planes, what's claim?

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

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