Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't that a bitch, I heard think
Rap is dead cause runnin out of shit to say
So ridiculous and so
I was at a loss for words, then I started to serve
Off the line of the mind
Back in 2005 droppin without the time
Bring the ruckus from the to the hood
Motherfucker it ain't all good, now I wish they would
Get yo' vest on, we on Babylon
The anti-Fox News, anti-pop, group
P and the Enemy the beast
Until we it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no whack shit, no glory
No gimmick tracks, just hard and rough raps
Plus gear that keep 'em fearin the crime
Makin sure brothers the time, that's why it ain't no smilin
See the as they're snatchin us up, yeah
At yo' high school, what?
Better recognize the bling of the machine
That's why it's meaning in the words we serve and ask you to think
Who the that embed with the swords
Who the ones pimp us all sellin for Murder Dog
The imagery is dead-ly so 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 guns on Uncle Tom to bomb on Viacom
on, long as needed we competin keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as long as they sell the out
I grip my shit and your back out
We act out, cause you know we reppin the
Still a (Rebel) never needin a (Pause), I drawers for balls

Chuck D (singers)]
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Ridin a soldier, hard truth soldiers in the game)
Whatever it takes to it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, ain't colder when we play)
Whatever it to make it hardcore!
(Hard truth soldier, with a soldier in the game)
it takes to make it hardcore!
(Keep the record rollin, nobody hold the spot we claim)

Soul survivors, now me who can bring it liver
P.E., still beatin the beast
In this game of latecomers, fake friends and
And men actin like teenagers, we raisin the stakes
What'cha know about words I throw
I say it loud better know that I'm black and I'm proud
(This is what I mean, an Machine)
Take a look around and see the way they the realest 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 only us "Murder on Wax"
us terrified, music sterilized
Back the lies of the homicide and smile
life what we make; they all
makin money off the African's fall, why I'm callin out

Because a (Nation of Millions) is the (Black)
When we (Bumrush the Show) (The Strike Back)
mo' game than the music and our message attract
(Revolverlution) and (Rebirth)'ll keep the music in
Fuck that, bust on they criminal ways
No in they action for the son of a slave
Now the church used to us, make somebody behave
Like this up in office really worship and pray
Like God speak to him and he does what he
But you they steal the vote if anybody gets smart
The real sin is the dilemma when the people
the death penalty but abortion murder for sport
For the fake patri-OT, ain't no 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 hoods, but the hood's in pain
When the schools cause they say no money remain
Still undereducated, minimum wage
Got Wal*Mart, makin new century slaves
Who's crazy? I can see, the disguise
See, through the propaganda and lies
See a nation full of sheep simple and blind
So we 'em with the sermon that's designed with a rhyme, we do it

D]
Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!