Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't a bitch, I heard somebody think
Rap is dead cause runnin out of shit to say
So and so absurd
I was almost at a loss for words, then I to serve
Off the line of the mind
Back in 2005 droppin without the time
Bring the from the booth to the hood
Motherfucker cause it ain't all good, now I wish would
Get yo' vest on, we rain on
The News, anti-pop, original group
P and the policin the beast
we rise it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no whack shit, no focus
No tracks, just hard truth and rough raps
Plus that gear keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure brothers knowin the time, that's why it ain't no
See the as they're snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' school, promisin what?
Better recognize the bling of the machine
That's why it's meaning in the words when we serve and ask you to
Who the whores embed with the swords
Who the ones pimp us all sellin death for Dog
The imagery is so what the fuck?
ah better hope we never knowin and bringin the ruckus
Like Nas said, a coon parade, yeah
Bitch niggaz out all day
We pullin on Uncle Tom to bomb on Viacom
It's on, as needed we competin keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as long as sell the black out
I my shit and blow your back out
We act out, cause you know we the cause
a (Rebel) never needin a (Pause), I check drawers for balls

[Chorus: D (singers)]
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Ridin with a soldier, truth soldiers in the game)
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, ain't nobody when we play)
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Hard truth soldier, ridin with a in the game)
it takes to make it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, can't nobody hold the we claim)

Soul survivors, now me who can bring it liver
It's P.E., still the beast
In this game of latecomers, fake friends and
And grown men actin like teenagers, we raisin the
know about words I throw around
When I say it loud better know that I'm and I'm proud
(This is what I mean, an Machine)
Take a look around and see the way they keepin the from reachin
But I bet you never it again, naw
Channel never heat it again
It fit into the corporate plan of attack
They genocidal practices givin us "Murder on Wax"
us terrified, music sterilized
Back the of the homicide and smile while
life imitates what we make; all
makin off the African's fall, that's why I'm callin out

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
When we (Bumrush the Show) (The Strike Back)
With mo' game than the music and our message
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll the music in tact
Fuck that, bust on they criminal ways
No compassion in action for the son of a slave
Now the church used to hurt us, make behave
Like devil up in office really worship and pray
God speak to him and he does what he wants
But you know they steal the vote if anybody smart
The sin is the dilemma when the people support
the penalty but call abortion murder for sport
For the fake patri-OT, no questions asked
'Specially, when the babies each other for gas
Known to on a menace that don't even exist
Set up governments, for the rich to get richer
More money for them hoods, but the hood's in
When the schools close cause say no money remain
Still undereducated, minimum wage
Got your Wal*Mart, new century slaves
Who's crazy? I can see, through the
See, the media's propaganda and lies
See a full of sheep still simple and blind
So we 'em with the sermon that's designed with a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it takes to it hardcore! [x2]