Luyện nghe bài hát Make 'em Pay

First and foremost, some rappers are sweet like
When I cock back these lyrics, y'all best be ghost
I be the seven, twenty-one, eighteen,
The illest one, I'm almost than anyone
Straight out the nights of Bed-Stuy
Steppin' up, y'all put your weapons up, I make fly
You're artificial, saccarhin
You're crazy fake, more than skills you be lackin' in
Concepts you bite, 'cause your identity ain't
Tryin' to be somethin' you're not, like a knife at a gunfight
I'm troopin' on night air, like number 1-0-6,
And all up in your fuckin' mix
You get me upset, and I got you
'Cause my committee's in city tonight, a'ight?
We got seventeen million of us, plus two Indians
makes nineteen mil, lightin' shit up, like Wild Bill
I be the father, plus the ill kid, with drama
My karma, creates the teflon to pierce your body
And make sure you the shit, before you walk to me, or talk to me
Steppin' to me improperly, you 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 bear
Tremendous tropper, verbal nigga, the fitness
Drop you for your spot with the blazer, then I ya
Slice precise, like Benihanas, when I come to the dramas
Styles so swift, that you can't the God
As lyrics get buried, six feet deep, in my backyard,
I hard, while your mental, I run through mazes
Dark stages of terror, to shatter your dressing mirror
Your error gets crushed, your whole show gets bumrushed
Too many punks want to enter this rap scene
Kickin' Willie Bobo, but need to be slapped
Into oblivion; the true champion always
I bring surprises to the chief, their advisers
Size me up, and you will find nothing's
Catch more wreck on your dome, a deranged fuckin' barber
So what, you made some dough, you best on scramblin'
All your vanity, is crushed, when I start handlin'
Demandin' that you pay, for weak rhyme display
to coast, I break the fakes everyday

I see myself as the black Rap
Colossal, spreadin' my through electrical wires
Spit fire through speech, so I can reach each and
Tom, Dick, and Jerry, slippin' like petroleum
Too busy in the limelight, can't rhyme
I got right to bring y'all to light
Somethin' right, to be an MC, you gotta thug
Or to you gotta be an MC, this shit is bugged
love but few; deal with crew and crew only
And universal, like Sony
Phony pounds and fake is usually avoided
Give a fuck like Hut, I got to stay Noyd-ed
'Cause same nigga you trust, could be that same cat
Behind that gat that bust, quiet ya, with the
Keep it hush, to dust, then dust to ashes
it's who pull 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 got changes bein' made
No wack bein' played, no fake macks gettin' paid
No Versace MC's, a mouth full of Mo'
Soundin' like a ho, that old-fashioned show flow
I bombshell pastel Chanel rap, through a Maxwell
Ever since Krumb, was taught to rap well
Goin' deep, process of thought, my eyes closes
Awaken with robe and sandals, like Moses
Travellin' sands and Eastern lands, for the answers
Ignorance is spreadin' the streets, like it was cancer
Too many drinkin' not thinkin', when behind trigger
A escalate the murder rate, for us niggaz
It's like, microphone roulette, 'cause nowadays MC's is wet
Over someone else's fake rep