Luyện nghe bài hát Make 'em Pay

First and foremost, some are sweet like fructose
When I cock back these lyrics, y'all punks best be
I be the seven, twenty-one, eighteen,
The illest one, I'm doper than anyone
Straight out the nights of Bed-Stuy
Steppin' up, put your weapons up, I make heads fly
You're artificial, saccarhin
You're fake, it's more than skills you be lackin' in
Concepts you bite, 'cause your identity ain't
to be somethin' you're not, like pullin' a knife at a gunfight
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 million of us, plus two million
makes nineteen mil, lightin' shit up, like Wild Bill
I be the supreme father, plus the ill kid, drama
My karma, the teflon to pierce your body armor
And make sure you check the shit, before you to me, or talk to me
to me improperly, you just may catch the weaponry
My is tearin' tracks out the frame
You know my fuckin' name, I all game
I'm universal, on all planes, your claim?

Yo, I be your highness, in slickness, you chumps witness
Tremendous tropper, nigga, with the fitness
Drop you for your spot the blazer, then I blast ya
Slice precise, like Benihanas, I come to bring the dramas
so swift, that you can't peep the God
As lyrics get buried, six feet deep, in my backyard,
I laugh hard, while your mental, I run mazes
Dark stages of terror, to shatter your dressing mirror
Your whole error gets crushed, your whole show gets
Too many dumb want to enter this rap scene
Kickin' Willie Bobo, but need to be slapped
Into oblivion; the champion always rises
I bring surprises to the chief, plus advisers
Size me up, and you will find larger
Catch wreck on your dome, than a deranged fuckin' barber
So what, you made dough, you best keep on scramblin'
All your vanity, is instantly crushed, I start handlin'
Demandin' that you pay, for your rhyme display
Coast to coast, I the fakes everyday

I see myself as the black Rap
Colossal, my gospel through electrical wires
fire through speech, so I can reach each and every
Tom, Dick, and Jerry, like petroleum jelly
Too busy in the limelight, rhyme tight
I got right to bring y'all to light
Somethin' right, to be an MC, you gotta thug
Or to thug you gotta be an MC, shit is bugged
Show but few; deal with crew and crew only
And think universal, like
Phony pounds and fake hugs is usually
Give a fuck like Pizza Hut, I got to Noyd-ed
'Cause that same nigga you trust, be that same cat
Behind gat that bust, quiet ya, with the silencer
Keep it hush, ashes to dust, dust to ashes
Nowadays who pull out the fastest, imagine this
Rap shit without this gat shit, or the cat
In black, talkin' how much his Mac spit
But this year, Starr got changes bein' made
No wack shit bein' played, no macks gettin' paid
No MC's, with a mouth full of Mo'
like a ho, spittin' that old-fashioned show flow
I bombshell that pastel rap, through a Maxwell
Ever since young Krumb, was to rap well
Goin' deep, process of thought, my eyes closes
with interpretive robe 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', when behind that
A thirty-eight escalate the murder rate, for us
like, microphone roulette, 'cause nowadays MC's is gettin' wet
Over someone fake gangsta rep