Luyện nghe bài hát Make It Hardcore

Ain't a bitch, I heard somebody think
Rap is dead people runnin out of shit to say
So ridiculous and so
I was almost at a loss for words, I started to serve
Off the line of the mind
Back in droppin hammers without the time
Bring the ruckus the booth to the hood
Motherfucker cause it all good, now I wish they would
Get yo' on, we rain on Babylon
The News, anti-pop, original group
P and the policin the beast
Until we it'll never be peace, I put that on Jesus
Back with vocals, no shit, no glory focus
No gimmick tracks, just truth and rough raps
Plus gear that keep 'em fearin the crime
sure brothers knowin 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 the bling of the murder machine
That's why it's in the words when we serve and ask you to think
Who the whores embed with the swords
Who the ones pimp us all sellin death for Dog
The is dead-ly so what the fuck?
Interscope ah better hope we knowin and bringin the ruckus
Like Nas said, a coon parade, yeah
niggaz goin out all day
We pullin guns on Uncle Tom to on Viacom
It's on, long as we competin keep-keepin it strong
Ain't no (Comic) in my (View) as as they sell the black out
I grip my shit and blow back out
We act out, cause you we reppin the cause
Still a (Rebel) never a (Pause), I check drawers for balls

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

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

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

D]
Whatever it takes to make it hardcore!